Faraday to arrive. Ever since supper last night, I’d been eavesdropping and asking questions, trying to find out if any of the others who’d taken Faraday’s odd little test had been invited to participate in the next stage. As far as I’d been able to tell, I was the only one. Seconds shaded into minutes, and the butterflies in my stomach had turned into biting horseflies, when a candy-pink squeal of delight rippled down the corridor toward me. Faraday had just walked in, and he’d come bearing doughnuts, which made him an instant hit with the nurses. They clustered around him like pigeons, dipping their hands into the box and cooing appreciation. Once they’d helped themselves, he crossed the hallway and offered the box to me. “I’m afraid there aren’t that many left to choose from,” he said. I picked out an apple fritter, so sweet it made my fingertips tingle. No wonder the nurses had been pleased: unlike the pastries in the cafeteria, these were fresh, and premium quality.
