It's just imposter syndrome, she says, smiling. He wouldn't have appointed you if you weren't up to the job.
The warmth of her smile usually melts any doubts I have.
But not this time.
She doesn't know the truth about me. I am not who she thinks I am. I am an actual imposter.
But I can't tell her this.
Not without losing everything I have.
And probably destroying her at the same time.
I can't take control of the fleet, I repeat. I am not ready.
She comes at me with the smile and the hug, and I fold into her and smell her hair as she whispers words of comfort into my ears.
My poor little bird, she says. You look so strong, but in fact, you are so delicate.
Little does she know.
If she knew who I really was, what I had done to replace the person she thinks I am. How I arrived in her world. If she knew all of that, she wouldn't dare stand in the same room as me. Let alone take me in her arms.
I pull away.
I have no experience, I say. I'm going to kill us all.
It sounds like a promise, as much as a prediction.
...
