Stark put down his phone and walked over to the dining table. Aisha was cutting the steak on her plate. He sat across from her, pressed the base of his wrist against the tabletop, waved a hand, and said, "Seriously, little girl, doesn't having a father like that put a lot of pressure on you?"
"He tells you to do this, tells you to do that. Everything is within his expectations." Stark sighed softly.
He had not intended to brainwash Aisha. He was merely making a few casual complaints. But for someone skilled at manipulation, manipulation had become instinct. Every gesture, every word, every inadvertent hint in his speech or demeanor was preparation for manipulation.
So Stark instinctively observed Aisha's reaction, but Aisha simply stared fixedly at the steak on her plate.
Stark frowned in mild surprise. He tilted his head forward and looked at Aisha over his eyes. He could tell that this little girl had some behavioral issues.
Stark cautiously rolled his eyes up and down as he observed Aisha, layering scrutiny into both his body language and gaze. He was trying to pressure her.
Usually, autistic children would be extremely uncomfortable under this kind of pressure, but Aisha showed no reaction, making Stark uncertain again.
"What are you thinking about?" Stark asked.
"Eat it? Don't eat it?" Aisha muttered.
"Eat what? Your food? Of course you can eat it. Or do you not like it?"
"Can I eat it?" Aisha finally looked up at Stark, her eyes filled with an anticipation he could not understand.
After a brief pause, Stark nodded. He did not understand why Aisha would ask that. Wait, could Batman have abused her before...
Stark had only just thought that when he heard a series of crunches. By the time he came back to