Chapter 11
The Thing With Feathers
FilliusTwenty Years Ago
In the end, Dr. Stek did hire me. I guided my cart down the familiar TE hallways and parked it next to a potion spill. This was never the position I wanted, and I was more qualified to conduct research than the buffoons who ran the labs here. Those dipsnarks didn’t know their vecular flow from their sanginoid channels. But still, they made more money than me. I tightened my grip on the bottle of cleaning fluid.
Mark, who was passing down the hallway, caught my expression and sneered. “Easy there, Fill. You squeeze any harder and it might pop.”
“Sorry,” I muttered. I relaxed my grip on the bottle and put it back on the cart. In the seven years that I’d worked here, Mark had never given any explanation for his behavior toward me
