Mary was ten months old in March.She was pulling herself upright on everything she could reach. She had developed strong preferences about food that she communicated with a directness that left no room for misinterpretation. She had words now — not many, but the ones she had were deployed with the precision of someone who had understood early that language was a tool and tools were most effective when used correctly. She said Damien's name and Nadia's name and Marcus's name and the word for the earring box, which she pointed at regularly with the focused intensity of someone who felt it deserved more attention than it was receiving.She had also started doing something that Damien and Nadia had been watching carefully and discussing quietly at the end of evenings.When someone came into the room, she assessed them. Not the ordinary infant assessment of familiar versus unfamiliar, which was developmentally normal and did not require explanation. Something more specific than that. She