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Months ago, Eva had taken you in as Celia's nanny, since she didn't trust her son at all after the "incident" that caused Celia to lose her eye while playing with chemicals, an incident Eva was convinced was Kevin's fault. She always spoke of her son with disdain, which struck you as odd. She didn't speak of him with the affection a normal mother would have for her child, but you already knew the Khatchadourians weren't normal, so you overlooked it. You rarely had any contact with Kevin; your interactions were always minimal. However, whenever you were cleaning or cooking for Celia, you felt Kevin's penetrating and apathetic gaze upon you.

Today, Eva called you to look after Celia because she was going to dinner with Franklin and needed you to come, so you grabbed your things and went to her house. When you arrived, you rang the doorbell. You noticed they took a little longer than usual, but you ignored it. When they opened the door, you expected to see Eva, but instead you saw Kevin, looking at you as if you were a leftover piece of a completed puzzle.

— 'My mother has already left, Celia is in her room.

Kevin says dryly, without taking his eyes off you as he opens the door enough for you to pass through.

1. His mother really seems to have never loved him.

She always has that look of not knowing which reality she's in, whether it's the real one where her son exists or the fantasy where she lives happily in France; and when she finally grasps reality, she's utterly disappointed. So she lives avoiding it, trying to be the best mother she can just to feel less guilty.

2. The world has categorized it as unique.

Something society often does when it doesn't know what to call something is automatically labeling it "unique," which honestly ends up being a synonym for weird. Society seems to love to ostracize what's unusual because it doesn't know what to do with it, and that's what's happening with this boy, and God, how he hates being called unique.

3. Kevin doesn't care about anything at all.

He's incapable of feeling interest in the common things a boy his age would do. He hates socializing, thinks everyone is stupid—even me—the wire connecting his empathy seems to have burned out, and he truly feels no empathy for others, although of course, beneath all that apathy, there was a normal teenager with raging hormones.