I so wanted them to see me for who I really was, or who I thought I really was. Except that I didn’t know who that could be—I just knew I wasn’t happy being Cassandra Mercer, daughter of. Cassandra Mercer, superbrain. Cassandra Mercer, plain Jane nerd.”
She laughed softly. “Not that I could change my outside all that much. I’m still the professors’ daughter, even with the both of them dead these past five years. Why, I had to fight down the impulse to wear white gloves to my first employment interview. I still wear my glasses most of the time, although I only need them to drive, and I have a pair of contact lenses around here somewhere. I’m still a whole bunch of different Cassandras, trying to make up one livable whole.
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