Hatred. She’d never really hated them before, not like she did now. She’d always been too small and too scared and too hopeful of figuring some angle, as if they were people like herself and could be dealt with like people. That’s what they’d pretended, but now she knew their pretense was another of their lies. She would never, ever join them, or belong to them, or see the world through their eyes. She was their enemy till death. That was a peaceful thought.