The next morning, after breakfast with Ajax, I spend time with Dr. Everett. He is really a great doctor and he’s very nice. He’s working hard to try and figure out what’s going on with me, but I can see that he’s frustrated.“Emmi, how much science did you get in school?” he asks me.“Well, I went to classes when I was in foster care or group homes, but I never really lasted too long in any one place. So, probably not enough to understand what you are going to tell me.”“Okay, sit here,” he says, patting the seat beside him. He’s sitting at his computer workstation. There’s a lot of equipment in this room, but it seems to be very organized from what I can see.He begins flashing images up on the wall across from us. “This is DNA, it’s your DNA actually. It has a really long name that only scientists remember, so for us, let’s just call it DNA.”“Okay,” I say, looking at the staircase looking image on the wall.“DNA is like the roadmap for who you are. Without getting too technical, it
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