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"What?" My stomach gave a great lurch, and I shuffled forward to get a better view.

"There is still question as to whether or not those who commit serial crimes are born that way or become that way. Nature or nurture. Genetics can't account for that," Clementine answered the girl matter-of-factly. She didn't seem to mind that Clem never looked at her. She pointed to the screen as she pulled up a website on her hovering device. "See this here?"

"Uh huh." Phoebe climbed up to kneel on the stool beside Clem. "Why do the hydrogen bonds look very different?"

"This is a different kind of double helix. A new technology. Would you like to see more?"

"Oh, yes. It's my special interest." Phoebe touched the screen and swiped the image to the left, then her little fingers flicked over the other graphs and charts like some sort of little expert. "Forensic science is a special interest, too. But I also have a special interest in horses and the history of Pagan Europe. I'm not sure where that came from, but I think it's a special interest that will fade over time."

"Special interests…" repeated Clem, her tone fading slightly. She glanced at the girl now as if finally noticing her.

"Yes." Phoebe didn't look at her, but kept on controlling her screen. "My first ever special interest was the roots of plants and how they grow. It's not now because I know everything about it."

Clem seemed to tense for a moment, and grew quiet, but Phoebe kept on.

"My mum taught me. Now she doesn't. I have tutors, but sometimes I know more than them. They don't understand special interests or neurodiversity at all. But now I have a special teacher who does."

"A special teacher," again, Clem repeated what Phoebe said, and I noticed how her movements slowed down as well. She turned on her stool, now facing the girl. Her fingers twitched beside her, and she tapped the middle two against her palm.

"Yes. For Autism." Phoebe gave one last poke at the screen. "There. That looks like a chloroplast genome."

"You're autistic," said Clem, but not like a question, then looked back to the screen. "It is a chloroplast genome."

"Yes."

"Me too…"

"I want to study how to synthesize the human genome someday." Phoebe stared at the screen for a moment longer, then finally, she glanced at Clem. "Do you do that?"

"I do that." Again, Clem's response sounded echoed, and her posture seemed riddled with sudden anxiety. I took a small step forward, but Phoebe continued on.

"Autistic people can do whatever we want." Phoebe pointed at the screen again. "Like you." After that statement, Phoebe looked right at Clem and grinned.

It took her a moment, but her gaze flickered to the kid and a similar smile tugged the corner of her mouth. "Thank you for saying that."

"I say what I mean. Can you show me a human genome?"

"Sure." Clem chuckled softly, but suddenly did a double-take when she saw me. Her eyes widened and she paused.

"Hi." I couldn't help the warm fluttering sensation in my stomach, nor the smile that lingered on my face. "I didn't expect to see you."

Clem froze for a moment, before her gaze darted around the room. The way her fingers tapped wildly against her thighs told me my presence must've landed the final blow to her tolerance level.

"Hey." I swept forward, blocking her view of the rest of the room for a moment. "Want to get a coffee with me real quick? There's vending machines outside."

Clem nodded immediately and let out a puff of breath.

"'Kay. C'mon." I waved for her to follow me, and we hurried out the side door where no one seemed to gather.

We left Phoebe at computer, but I was pretty sure she'd figure out how to sequence the entire human species before we even got back without an iota of prompting.

In the empty hall, Clem calmed down almost immediately. No one followed us or joined us by the vending machines nor the seating area beside them.

"You okay?" I asked, glancing around us while she paced back and forth for a moment.

"I just have to calm down."

"Okay. What do you need to calm down?"