Originally titled "Introductions." This is the 3rd draft. It should contain enough to make Nishi's character more clear. The chapter should feel smoother on the read. I still have to deal with Nishi's discomfort with being relegated to being the one to mentor another black patient. That should be producing some conflict in the future.

Nishi brushed the hey from her britches while she walked up to the main hall. A portly man was there to greet her.

"Mr. Cotwin," she said, " I'm not dressed for this."

"You have my sympathies, Nishi. I can not, however, change the circumstances. Your charge has arrived on an unusually early train. We will simply have to welcome her."

Mr. Cotwin spoke as he led the way through the great rotunda. She felt the wide space surround her through her footsteps' echoes. She momentarily saw herself in her dusty clothes, leaving a trail of dried mud --like breadcrumbs. She felt as if she was shrinking as she reached the library doors.

"Don't be nervous," he said. "I have great confidence in you. You will be a fine mentor."

Mr. Cotwin unlatched the library door. Nishi's heart beat a little faster as he stepped past him. She buried any thought of the bad impression she was about to make.

There was a girl standing in the middle of the room with her hat in her hands and her bag at her feet. Nishi barely noticed anything but the color of the girl's skin --dark, like her own. Nishi put aside an unexpected discomfort and squared her jaw. "Good morning," she said, "My name is Nishi. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. My name is Melody Platt." The girl made a slight curtsy.

"Well," said Mr. Cotwin, "Nishi, here, will help you get acquainted with our facilities so you can start feeling at home as soon as possible. Nishi, can you take Melody to her room? It's 12."

"Thank you, Mr. Cotwin," said Nishi. "Melody, come along, and I'll show you your room."

"Thank you, Mr. Cotwin --Nishi." Melody gave another quick curtsy and picked up her bag. She followed Nishi out of the library and up a nearby flight of stairs.

Nishi spoke as they reached the top of the stairs. "You're right across the hall from me. I'll be here to help you get settled."

"That's good," said Melody. "You know, it's nice and airy here. I thought it would be a windowless place where it rained all the time."

Nishi said, " It like those sanatoriums that are all the rage in the States. Your health is supposed to be always improved, and there's something lovely 'round every corner. I guess it's to help us forget why we're here."

"Do you?" asked Melody.

"What?"

"Forget."

"Sometimes."

Nishi led Melody down the hall. "My room is to the right --here, number 11. There's number 12, across from mine."

"It's locked." Melody tugged at the door.

"Didn't you get a key?"

"Oh!" Melody reached into her bag and pulled a key out. With a clack she opened the door.

"Your luggage is already here," said Nishi. "That's a good omen."

"Why?"

"It means things are starting right." 

"It means I didn't lose my knickers."

Nishi didn't quite hide her grin. She waved for Melody to follow her out. "Come to my room for a minute."

Melody followed Nishi across the hall. "Why don't you lock your door?" she said.

"I don't know. I don't bother anymore."

"What about your stuff?"

"No one bothers it. Come on, look out the window."

"It's lovely."

"That's the courtyard. We all work hard on it. Those trees on the end are cherry. I planted them last year. We'll see fruit in a few years."

Nishi heard Melody's sigh. "This seems a wonderful place. It's so different from home." They both plopped on the bed.

"Where do you come from?" asked Nishi.

"Connecticut."

"Is that in the States?"

"Yea. It's really nice, but we couldn't stay."

"Why?"

"After the war, my grandparents moved north with a lot of the family. Our problems followed us. The story gets too complicated to tell."

"Were they slaves?"

"Some. Some free. Didn't amount to much either way."

"How did you get here?"

"We had money saved up for passage on a steamship. We ended up in Flintshire.

"I've never been there."

"It's nice --welcoming. My dad got work as an expressive carpenter and my mom a teacher."

"Can you express?" As soon as she asked the question, Nishi felt her cheeks turn red.

"No."

"I'm sorry," said Nishi. "That was rude of me."

"That's alright. You might as well know. I reduce."

Nishi shut her gaping mouth as quick as she could.

"It was an involuntary reduction involving a cat that got me here," said Melody.

Nishi managed an "oh."

"The cat survived."

"Of course," said Nishi.

"So, what about you?"

"Inattentive Manipulation of the Flowing Influence," said Nishi. "That's what they tell me."

"What?"

"I'm a pathological firestarter. The thaumopathologist explained that I'm liable to burn down my house so I'm here instead."

"I thought you said flowing flatulence. The catching fire thing makes sense that way."

"Are you always like this?"

"Sometimes. When I'm around people that make me feel at home." Melody sat down on Nishi's bed and watched the birds play outside the window. "What do we do now?"

"Lunch is in an hour. I'll show you the bath. We can freshen up."

"I mean, what do we do now?"

Nishi leaned over and spoke quietly.  "Melody, I grew up here. I don't even remember my own family." She tried to choose her words. "I'm not sure what it is you imagine it's like--"

"I don't belong here, Nishi."

"I don't know." Nishi stared at her palms resting in her lap. They sat together in silence for several minutes. She didn't want to look up, so she just listened for the sobbing. None came. "We'll figure something out," she said.

Melody reached over and grasped Nishi's hand. "Thank you."