It might have been the quickest decision I had ever made in my entire life. The second that I discovered Lottie's work offer for the HHDA, I had already opened my eyes to a future in interior design. Not only had I just found something to replace my nothing, as Mom would have called it, but I had found something where a passion in my work wouldn't be difficult to find. I might not have known the first thing about interior design, but there wouldn't be anything that Lottie couldn't teach me.

Isabelle, however, was not as enthusiastic about the offer. She was hesitant about the idea of attending work at Happy Home, secretly disclosing to me after Mom and Dad had returned outside that she was worried that a future at the HHDA wouldn't align with the future she had pictured for herself with a memorable story and her name out in the world. She ended up declining Lottie's offer of work, despite being in heavy search of a job, so I stole the opportunity alone. I wrote my response to Lottie accepting her offer and declining on Isabelle's behalf that same morning.

Lottie's next letter arrived promptly, just two days after I had sent my written acceptance. My employment for the Happy Home Designer and Academy was official and my first day of work was February twenty-first. This left just about three weeks left of unemployment before I would begin a professional job for the first time in my life at seventeen years old and the day truly couldn't arrive quickly enough. I had never expected that this would have been how my search for school would come to an end, but reality was something unpredictable.

My parents were almost looking forward to the day more than I was. Just the topic being brought into conversation of the fact that I had been invited personally to attend work at such a well-known and well-respected business was plenty for them to gush over. Preparing me for the day I would begin work quickly became a high priority within the family as Mom and Dad did everything they could to make certain that I was completely ready including even purchasing a formal briefcase for me in case I would require to bring anything to and from work. With the sight of its many pockets and folder slots inside and the scent wafting from it of new fabric whenever it was opened, I was all the more ready for my new future to begin.

The fact that I was suddenly no longer unemployed and was soon to begin work at a noteworthy place of business was foreign, unfamiliar words to leave my tongue, but thrilling nonetheless. So, I spoke them often. It filled the topic of several conversations in my family as I offered my thoughts on the matter and my wonders of the time when I would be working. I frequently tossed the acknowledgement through my mind that whatever potential I held, the potential that I struggled so much to see just about two weeks ago, was valuable to an extent to be considered and even requested for a responsibility of such high significance. As the days crawled on, the jabbing sense of uselessness in my gut was evolving into something different; I ceased to question my ability and my mindset was shifted to align with the steady rhythm of confidence, an attitude like I was going to walk in as if I owned the place, like I had swiped the accomplishment with ease, like yeah, I did that. But I didn't miss the anxious shimmer in Isabelle's dark eyes every time I brought it into discussion.

On February sixteenth, five days before the day when I would begin work at the HHDA, a considerably large box appeared next to the mailbox addressed to the house. It was sent for me directly from Happy Home, so I dropped it off to open it on my bed in my room. It contained a neatly folded formal suit including a set of navy blue pants, a white dress shirt, a red button-down suit jacket, and a sunny-yellow tie. Lottie had mentioned to me over writing that I would have been receiving a uniform that I would be required to wear while attending work at the HHDA and therefore this must have been what she had mentioned. I put on the suit for the first time that very morning to try out my new appearance.

From that day onward, everything I needed to call myself prepared had fallen into place. I had an official work uniform to name me a soon-to-be member of the official Happy Home group, a briefcase to carry my work, and even someone to show me the way to work on the first day. All that was left to do was wait for the day to finally arrive. It was like waiting for the first semester of the year to begin when I was still in school, counting the days as they passed by and toying with predictions of how the day would look. It was as my days had begun to run short that I came to realize I didn't even have a clue what the day was supposed to look like or what I was actually supposed to do while I would be there. Fortunately, this concern didn't go unresolved for long.

The sound of silverware clinking against dishes filled the quiet room in the lack of voices. Dinner tonight was a particularly heavy soup that carried a fair mix of vegetables and onions, served in the opening hours of the evening under the gentle atmosphere of a closing day. There had been nothing to talk about as the meal began, and so we said nothing. As I worked through my meal, I acknowledged that I would soon be heading to bed in as little as two hours to squeeze in as much sleep as I possibly could before tomorrow's fateful morning, but a tingling excitement like pins and needles that tickled my stomach told me I wasn't going to get much sleep tonight.

Today was the twentieth of February, which meant that my employment for the HHDA began officially tomorrow. From eight in the morning until six in the evening, I would be devoting myself to sustaining my first professional job. I would be walking to and from the building twice a day but hadn't yet figured out how much time it would take to reach it, so I would allow myself more time than it would seem I needed. It was always better to arrive earlier than risk being late. If I departed from the house at seven fifteen to allow for a forty-five minute walk while using half an hour to get myself ready to leave beforehand, then my best option was to set my morning alarm for six forty-five. In that case, I definitely wouldn't be sleeping much tonight.

Isabelle wasn't eating persistently this meal. She only took a bite of her soup every once in a while, spending the time she wasn't eating aimlessly pushing around the contents of her bowl. It was quite a flavorful and satisfying soup that flooded me with warmth, so I couldn't see how she wouldn't be inclined to continue eating. I couldn't find any words to mention her reluctance so I held my tongue, but I couldn't help glancing over whenever she did take a bite.

The phone rang from the living room down the hallway, breaking the silence that had settled in the room since the start of the meal. Shifts of movement broke out across the table as everyone tried to figure out what was happening. I quickly raised my eyes from my half-eaten soup as my father pushed himself up from the table to answer the call.

"I'll get it. Please keep eating," Dad offered, stepping out from his seat at the table and hastily crossing the room to disappear into the hallway.

Silence found its way into the room again after Dad had left for the living room, leaving Mom, Isabelle, and me to finish the meal. I scooped up another bite of soup, quietly enjoying my meal, but just after I had managed to swallow my bite of vegetables again did the sound of approaching footsteps alert me to the fact that Dad was already off the phone. I lifted my head again in time to see him emerge from the hallway again.

"It's for you, Digby," Dad told me, making his way back across the room and withdrawing his chair from the table again. "It's Lottie."

The phone, as I took notice of after I entered the open entryway to the living room from the hallway, had been set down on the mini table beside the receiver as Lottie waited to speak with me on the other line. Shadows crept through the corners of the room from the late evening hour as I cut across the room to reach the phone. It was only as my paw grasped hold of the phone on the table to raise it and answer did it occur to me that the awaited discussion must have been one relating to my work. Since the entire process began tomorrow, I couldn't see the conversation taking any different turn.

"Hey, Lottie," I greeted my friend over the phone after tucking it under my floppy ear. A distinct cringe instantly found my face at the words that had come from me without even a thought. Old habits really were tough to break. Now that we would be working together, a casual 'hey' in greeting was awfully unprofessional.

Lottie wasn't upset, however, as I would have been easily able to tell if she was. She was never hesitant to show dissatisfaction when it struck her.

"Hello, Digby," she replied, but then a quietness filled the call only to be broken after a long pause as if she wasn't entirely sure how to continue. Lottie was always a bit awkward and self-conscious on the phone and every call scattered throughout our teenage years seemed like something she couldn't quite master the confidence for. But I was patient and by instinct that I had developed over the years, I kept myself quiet until I would hear a statement or a question to respond directly. "I was just hoping that we could discuss the plans for tomorrow morning. I hope that this isn't a busy time for you."

"No, not really," I told her, my thoughts flicking back to the rest of my family eating at the dining table without me as I dropped into a seat on the end of the couch. My meal would still be in my place when I would return. "I'd much rather be prepared than to go without a settled plan."

"I'm glad that you feel that way. It's always good to have a plan," Lottie agreed. Footsteps wandered the dining room at the end of the hall, implying that Isabelle had given up on her meal and was bringing her dish back to the kitchen. "You don't know how to get to Happy Home on your own, is that correct? No judgment, of course, I'm just making sure."

"Right," I said. My elbow rested casually on the arm of the couch as I held up the phone to my ear, listening to the sounds of the commotion I was missing in the other room as I spoke.

"That's fine. In that case, I'll make a visit to your house tomorrow before we go to work so that I can show you the way there. I think it'll be nice to be able to walk there together," Lottie replied, but almost immediately launched herself into her next words as if she was getting off track. "But I'll, um... I'll be there at about six thirty tomorrow morning. Does that sound all right to you?"

Conversation had arisen from the other room, where I heard untroubled voices yet no clear words. I opened my mouth to reply, trying to turn away my attention from the sounds to focus on the discussion I was having over the phone, but before a response could leave me, Lottie's words clicked into place in my mind. Six thirty? Why did she have plans to be here so early? I hadn't even planned to pull myself out of bed until almost seven.

"Sure. I can meet you then," I said, the promise hastily leaving my tongue to make way for the questions that still lingered there. "But I thought that I wasn't meant to be at work until eight."

"Oh, on most days, you wouldn't need to be there before eight," Lottie told me as footsteps approached the living room where I sat speaking on the phone. Mom appeared in the opening to the room, peering in at me as if to check if everything was okay. I sent her a smile to assure her that it was and she returned the smile brightly before disappearing once again. "Since tomorrow will be your first day, there are a lot of things we'll need to settle before you begin working. The walk to the building will only be about a half an hour at most from your house, if my calculations are correct, but I'm allowing extra time for you to get there so that you can thoroughly understand the directions you'll take. We'll be at the building no later than seven to seven fifteen."

I had scrapped the original plan to set my alarm for six forty-five, since the plan now was that I wouldn't even be home at that time. My thoughts raced to rewrite the equations I had worked out while I had been eating dinner. I didn't need anything longer than thirty minutes to prepare to leave with my only tasks being dressing myself, locating my briefcase, and finding some breakfast that, in the worst case scenario, I could eat while I would be walking. Allowing fifteen minutes for flexibility in the potential event that Lottie would be early in reaching the house, my best option was waking up a quarter before six. At least it was temporary.

"As you know already, your working hours will be eight in the morning until six in the afternoon," Lottie went on. "That being said, the doors aren't open to the public until nine, and so there's an extra hour beforehand that I suggest you use completing any work you might have at your own pace so that you'll be able to finish it by the deadlines. Since we'll be arriving at about seven, the building will be empty for the next couple of hours. Well, mostly empty, that is."

I had nearly forgotten to consider the fact that Lottie wasn't the only animal working at the HHDA, since she had initially been the one to reach out to me. Lottie worked at the side of her uncle, Lyle—And soon, so would I. In the past, I had only crossed paths with Lyle when he brought Lottie to visit Isabelle and me every couple months, but it appeared as though that was about to change significantly.

"Speaking of which, my uncle will be there when we arrive," Lottie told me. "He will be explaining the plan for your work and everything else you'll need to know while you're working at Happy Home. Besides that, I think that's everything that I hoped to speak with you about. Do you have any questions for me?"

I skimmed through the plan once more in my head to make certain of the fact that I had enough information to confidently declare myself ready and that there wouldn't be any missing parts of my understanding that could lead to my unfortunate downfall. Get up at five forty-five. Leave with Lottie at six thirty. Arrive at work at seven, when I would receive direct instructions from Lyle. It all seemed generally straightforward to me.

"No, I know what to do," I said. "Thank you for the information. I'll keep it in mind."

"Good luck, Digby. I think you're going to do very well," Lottie told me. "I'm looking forward to working with you."

. . .

My eyes snapped open at the rhythmic chime of my alarm clock slicing through the silence of the night. My bedroom was drowned in darkness and the house outside of the room was quiet, causing a panic burning like a fire to claw through me as I rushed to kill the noise. I fumbled in the darkness to slam my paw down over the alarm clock, ending the sound and letting silence ring in the air again, and felt the shadows close around me as I snuggled under the blankets of my bed to fall back asleep.

I didn't know why my alarm clock would have been waking me up at this hour and I still clung to sleep too desperately to question it. Maybe I had bumped something in my sleep to cause it to go off. The thought didn't linger in mind for too long as I slowly eased back into unconsciousness, my rolling thoughts a lullaby for my nearing sleep.

What day was it? Did I have anything important to do today? My bed comfortably cradled me as I savored the moment of rest I would gain before I fell asleep completely. For all I knew, seconds could have been minutes and minutes could have been hours as I settled into a doze, waiting for the sleep that was just in my reach. I knew that I was meant to begin work soon, and while that was destined to be an interesting experience, time had no meaning in the void of midnight's stillness and there was no way for me to tell how soon that day would come. The day would be Thursday the twenty-first, to be exact. I recalled just whispers of the conversation I had shared over the phone with Lottie about it just last night, which had been a Wednesday.

Oh no. My eyes were immediately flung open again as the thought crossed my mind and I bolted upright in bed, hastily untangling myself from the blankets to get up for the morning. That day was today. I was supposed to be getting ready to leave for work right now. As I was launching myself out of bed, I snuck a glance at my alarm clock, at the bright orange numbers that cut through the thick shadows of the room, and felt a weak breath of relief escape me. It was only four minutes to six. It wasn't the best, but I could still work with it.

I flicked on the lights of my bedroom for the morning, causing a glow to pool into the hallway right outside of the room as my door hung open. A tired soreness drooped from my eyes as I tugged on the suit I would wear to work: the formal-fitted navy blue pants and the white long-sleeved dress shirt that I tucked neatly and promptly into the pants. I put on the yellow tie next, a skill that had been trained with the help of Dad a few days ago as he prepared me for my new job, and made use of the full length mirror propped up against the wall to tie it as my memory recited and fit it up snug at my neck.

Though it was the first time I was putting on the outfit for something important, the action was a mindless procedure as my thoughts wandered in the tranquility of the morning while I grabbed my red suit jacket and slipped my arms into the sleeves. It was just about six in the morning now, which meant that Lottie had promised to be here in half an hour, when we would leave to walk to work. It was the middle of February in the opening hours of the morning, so it hardly took a thought for me to realize that the walk to work was going to be spent in dimness for a while, not to mention absolutely frigid. That wouldn't be the most pleasant thing in the world, but hopefully I would be able to say it was worth it.

I adjusted the suit jacket to hurriedly button up the three silvery-white buttons at the front as my thoughts strayed to the day ahead of me. It was certainly going to be a notable change in routine. The curious uncertainty danced through my mind as I considered the morning that was waiting for me. Just the thought of it swarmed my stomach with little flutters of eager anticipation.

"Digby?" a soft voice spoke up from behind me. I pinched in the final button of my jacket and spun around to find Isabelle straying in front of the doorway as if unsure if she was allowed to be there. She was dressed in her white nightgown, a pair of slippers, and an exhausted yet questioning expression.

"Isabelle, why are you awake?" I asked in a hushed voice before the thought of the volume in my alarm clock struck me again as well as the lights I was allowing to creep across the hallway floor. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"I set an alarm to get up early and say goodbye," Isabelle whispered. A soft warmth flowed into my heart at the thoughtful action, but I didn't have the time this morning to linger on courteous statements.

"Well, that's very kind of you, but you didn't need to do that. Besides, I'm not leaving quite yet," I pointed out, my eyes dropping to search the floor for my briefcase and locating it sitting upright on the floor beside my bed before reaching down to lift it by the handle. It felt new and unusual in my paw, almost like it wasn't my own.

"What do you need to do?" Isabelle asked delicately as I gathered up the briefcase from the floor and rose to my full height again.

"I still need to get some breakfast," I explained. The morning's events were still echoing themselves in my mind as I remembered the routine clearly. Breakfast was the last part of my preparations that I needed and Lottie would be arriving in less than thirty minutes. "As long as you're up, you can join me."

I couldn't remember the last time the house was this quiet. It was as if the night itself was holding its breath and time became this abstract, unimportant aspect of life as it was right now. The quietness stretched into breakfast as well, where I seated myself at the table to enjoy an apple from the basket of fruit as the minutes steadily crept closer to the time when I would be meant to leave. I finished my apple right as the clock above the front door hit six twenty, suggested for Isabelle to wait outside and let me know if Lottie would make an appearance, and departed from the dining room to toss out the apple core.

I made a visit to the kitchen, chucking my apple core into the trash bin on the floor next to the main counter, and thought to join Isabelle outside before the reminder of February's bitter chill resurfaced in my mind. I allowed myself time to pull on my gray puffy coat, eyeing the clock as it snuck towards the mark of six thirty, and carried my briefcase through the door as I thrust my way through into the dim outside world.

Isabelle stood alone on a fresh blanket of snow, casting a glance over her shoulder at me as the door swung open. The sky, pitch black as the darkest night behind a spiral of dotting stars, glistened as far as the eye could reach all the way to the far corners of the land. An icy breeze swept through, playing with snowflakes that dusted the top of the previous snowfall and nipped at my cheeks and paws. Lottie wasn't there.

"She's not here yet?" I said, stepping up beside Isabelle and slipped my free paw into my coat pocket to contain the warmth. The wind whistled faintly in the distance.

"Not yet," Isabelle murmured sleepily. She had no pockets in her nightgown and so when she noticed me put my paw in my pocket, she tucked her paws into her long sleeves. "What time did she say she was picking you up?"

"She said she would be here at about six thirty, but I'm not sure what time it is now," I admitted, tearing my focus away from Isabelle to search the area for Lottie.

It must have been growing close to half past six when I had stepped outside, so it was likely that Lottie would show up sometime in the next several minutes. I struggled to point out her presence anywhere nearby, leaving an empty desolation in the area as my twin sister and I were the only animals up and about at this time of day. I listened intently for the sound of footsteps shuffling over the snow, any kind of sign that Lottie would be here to bring me to work, but all that I could catch was the whistling of the piercing wind until eventually Isabelle spoke again.

"Are you scared?" Isabelle inquired. I stole a glance at her to find that she was still watching me, a faint shimmer of curiosity glossing her dark eyes as the breeze fiddled with the light tufts of bangs on her forehead.

A vague sense of puzzlement crept through my mind. Why would I have been scared?

"Of what?" I asked her.

"Well, I don't know," Isabelle replied, breaking her gaze from mine as her eyes darted to sweep her surroundings as if she would find her words somewhere in the snow for a few seconds before she returned her focus to the conversation and to me. "This is something you've never done before. Going off on your own, starting a real job for the first time."

I hadn't even considered the unfamiliarity of the experience to be a factor of anxiety. It wasn't like I was trying something new alone. Lottie was a friend of mine and even though I didn't yet know Lyle quite as well, we were probably as close as acquaintances could get. I was comfortable with trying new things and the accepting risk of making mistakes when I was with them because they understood me for the individual I was and never once let judgment towards me slip. They were there for me and that connection wouldn't be shaken by the fact that I didn't know what I was doing.

But Isabelle couldn't see this. She was worried, even if she didn't say or show it, that it was going to be something difficult for me to adjust to. A casual brushing off of the topic wouldn't be enough to assure her that I was genuinely okay.

"I have no reason to be scared, Isabelle," I told her, letting a smile find its way to my face as the situation became clear. "I'll have you and Lottie to support me."

"I'm glad that we can be here for you, but I'm going to miss you," Isabelle confessed. "We've never been apart for so long before. I don't know what I'm going to do."

Recognition flickered in the back of my mind at these words. We'd had this conversation once before. It was the day I had received my work uniform in the mail and right after I had tried it on to see how it fit and she arrived at my bedroom to check in. Isabelle had expressed worry about this immense change being the cause of our friendship to weaken or for us to drift apart. I had promised her that I would never let that happen. She must have still been thinking about it.

"I told you," I said gently. "Nothing has to change if we don't want it to. It's not like I'm going away forever. I will still be with you."

Isabelle drew in a deep breath and forced a slight nod, but the anxious expression still locked over her face told me that she wasn't entirely convinced.

"That's true," she mumbled.

"We're going to be okay," I promised. "I'll be home before seven every night. It'll be just about eleven hours in each day that we'll be apart."

"Right," Isabelle agreed, but she turned her face away as she gave another nod.

I wasn't getting the message across efficiently enough. I needed to do what I could to help her feel better about the situation and convince her that everything was fine. The very first idea to leave its touch on my mind was humor, to make her laugh somehow—Laughter was the best medicine, wasn't it? I was skilled at making my sister laugh, knowing precisely what topic to poke at to force out the giggly laughter that she had. With the strike of a different thought that had proved itself easy to amuse her, I jabbed my elbow playfully into her arm to get her attention again.

"So, keep your paws off my shoes during those eleven hours, okay?" I teased her, which earned a true smile to flood her face as a burst of laughter in the quietness of the morning escaped from her. I couldn't recall the number of shoes I'd had as a puppy that didn't have dents or teeth marks as Isabelle hadn't grown out of the habit of stealing them and gnawing on them until about the age of seven. While it had been enough to send annoyance pulsing through me at the time, it was worth much less frustration now as we got a laugh out of it instead. It never failed to lift her spirits whenever she wasn't quite her joyful, bouncy self.

We shared a few giggles at how ridiculous the problem had been, but Isabelle's laugh faded out before mine as if it were only fake. I glanced at her to discover that her concern had already crept back onto her face again as the humor quickly wore off. It hadn't been enough. Maybe what she needed was reassurance, possibly comfort, something that she could remember.

"What about you?" I asked once I had found my words. "Are you scared?"

"Yes," Isabelle confessed. That was another thing that I had come to notice about her over the years. She didn't hide when something was truly wrong. She didn't pretend that everything was okay in times when it wasn't.

"Why?" I questioned.

"I just don't want anything to change," Isabelle told me, once again. I caught sight of the worry shimmering in her eyes and then, right at that moment, I realized just how the situation was laid out.

This meant as much to me as it did to her, but for an entirely different reason. She was wholeheartedly convinced and terrified that our friendship was on the line for this. I should have taken notice of it before. She had dreaded the day as much as I had longed for it, as it became quite suddenly clear in the way I recalled her anxious glances whenever I spoke of it, because she was genuinely worried that we would take the fall for it. She had put so much devotion and care into this connection that we had and I had been too blind by my success to even think twice about it. And right in that moment, I knew that I had never had a closer friend.

This went beyond something that could have been pushed away with humor. I needed to show her that I was there to support her the way she was there for me and I needed to do it in a way that was meaningful for her. I thought about this for a moment, reaching back into my memory for anything that had brought her comfort and belonging, and then I saw the answer. While we were growing up, our parents had taught us several lessons through symbolism and metaphor about stars and their valuable places in the night sky. I had never held any of them close to my heart but Isabelle listened intently with questioning eyes as she tried to decipher each meaning.

I tore my focus away to gaze up at the sky, watching the twinkling of the infinity of stars above us.

"Look up there," I suggested. "What do you see?"

I heard Isabelle shift slightly on the snow as she looked up at the star-sprinkled sky as I directed.

"Stars," she said uncertainly after a moment as if questioning whether or not this was the correct answer.

"Do you remember what Mom and Dad used to tell us about stars?" I prompted. I might not have been able to pull a quote directly from my memory, but I left the thought simply for Isabelle to consider. With the promptness of her answer, she clearly had one prepared, though, even by heart. It must have been the one that resonated with her most deeply.

"Reach for the stars, and someday you will be able to hold them as your own," she recalled, word for word. Her voice was becoming increasingly steadier as her worry seemed to slowly slip away from her. I had to make sure she kept following those thoughts. "If you're patient enough, you could even count them."

"Do you know what it means?" I asked, and for a brief moment, our gaze aligned again before we returned our attention to the stars and all of their mystery.

"Not really," Isabelle said from beside me.

"You're not supposed to. That's something you find out at the end of your journey," I explained. And that journey is the most important thing in the world to me now. "You're only at the start. You don't have any stars to count, so to speak."

"Wow," Isabelle murmured thoughtfully.

I allowed my focus to stray across the stars for a few more seconds, scouring the corners of my mind for the best words to say. Just like that, after just a sliver of effort, I had them.

"I think I'm on my way to find my stars," I told her, stepping in the snow to face her and show her that I was engaged in the conversation rather than brushing it off as I had been before. When the sound of shoes crunching over snow was evident even after I had gone still, starting quiet as they neared where I stood, I knew that Lottie was walking to join us. Still, my focus remained fixed on Isabelle. "If there was no change, then I would never get any closer to my destination. I think that all we can do about it is accept that there will be a change and that it will all be for the better."

"Are you sure?" Isabelle asked me.

"Of course," I assured her, but it seemed that she had also heard Lottie approaching and turned her head in the direction of the sound as another icy breeze skimmed the area.

"Good morning!" Lottie's easily recognizable voice, naturally melodic and precise, rang out across the area in greeting when I turned to look at her as she approached Isabelle and me. She was not bundled up in a coat like I was and the uniform she sported was quite like mine, with only minor differences of a short navy blue skirt rather than pants and a thin yellow bow where I wore my tie. Her light brunette hair had been pulled up into a neat bun at the top of her head as usual but in front of it clung a sky-blue and white spotted bow that Isabelle had gifted her three years ago for her sixteenth birthday.

"I hope I'm not interrupting something," Lottie added apologetically as she shuffled over the snow to join us. Isabelle broke into a hustled walk towards her to exchange greetings, ending our conversation as it currently stood. I drifted forward to follow her.

"Lottie!" Isabelle burst out cheerfully, dashing across the snow in her nightgown and her slippers to meet Lottie, to which she outstretched her arms and drew her into a firm hug.

"Isabelle, I wasn't sure if you'd be awake yet," Lottie told Isabelle as she clutched her close in a tight hug as if she planned to never let go. I wandered closer to join them with one paw locked around the handle of my briefcase and the other still shoved deep into my pocket, though I kept my silence to give them their moment. "It's so good to see you."

Isabelle and Lottie held each other for another moment in the quietness of the faintly whistling wind and the pinching chill lingering in the air before they withdrew again.

"I wish that we could see each other more often, but I know you've got a lot of work to do," Isabelle pointed out as Lottie kindly rested her paws over her arms to listen. Lottie was barely a couple inches taller than Isabelle but probably nearly five or six inches shorter than me, as I could more easily note as I moved to stand near them.

"I wish the same, but the call of business is always urgent," Lottie agreed with her.

Lottie gave a slight start when I stepped up beside my twin sister as if she hadn't realized beforehand that I was there. I wasn't entirely certain what she was doing with her paws as she hesitantly yet slightly outstretched them like she wanted to hug me as well in a twitchy, uncertain manner before she promptly folded them together in front of her instead and sent up a brightly beaming smile at me. I could almost catch sight of the reflection of the sparkling starlight above us in the dark pool of her eyes underneath her thick eyelashes.

"Hello, Digby," Lottie greeted me. Something in her voice was almost a bit shy or breathless in a way and I could easily see why. This must have been an immense change for her as well, quite suddenly having someone new to work with, not to mention that she wasn't the most outgoing animal to begin with. She didn't often talk about how she was feeling and kept emotions to herself, but I could analyze her without much difficulty.

"Good morning, Lottie," I replied. Now, that was a bit better than before. Hopefully, after wearing in the new job alongside her it would be enough to train me into a more professional greeting. "Have you been well?"

"Yes, I've been all right," Lottie told me in her light, sunny tone. A faint breeze sent her thin bangs flicking across her forehead and sent a jolting shiver shooting down my spine.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked her, shifting awkwardly in my stance on the snow at the piercing chill that felt to sink right into my skin while Lottie, wearing only the red jacket to sustain warmth, didn't so much as blink at the temperature. "You're not even wearing a coat."

Isabelle had begun to lose interest in the conversation, letting her gaze sneak around our surroundings to pass the time.

"I'm just fine, but it's thoughtful of you to be concerned," Lottie told me, hastily brushing her bangs from her eyes and sending a distracted glance back the way she had come from. She must have been anxious to finally start walking, given the time we were spending in conversation. It was about time to begin wrapping up to leave.

"As long as you're fine, then I'm happy," I said. A creeping suspicion had dawned on me that I might have been acting rude or inconsiderate in some way that I wasn't quite aware of, possibly to make Lottie try to leave in such a hurry as she almost seemed to be doing now at a reach. Or maybe it was just my anxiety senselessly tormenting me again. Was abandoning my own coat the polite thing to do, since Lottie didn't bring one of her own? "Should I leave my coat in the house as well?"

"No, no, you should keep it. I want you to be as warm as you can be," Lottie rushed to correct me. Before she could continue, she broke her gaze from mine to instead study her paws in front of her. "Besides, I think you look cute."

"Well, thank you, Lottie. I try," I replied lightheartedly, closing the conversation so as to address Isabelle instead. Isabelle quickly seemed to sense that the time had come for me to leave and raised her head to glance up at me. "We're going to head out, Isabelle. I suppose this is goodbye for now."

"I suppose it is," Isabelle replied. She seemed calm, but I couldn't read the emotion in her voice anymore. Hopefully our conversation about the stars had done well to ease her mind a bit more. I wasn't sure that leaving her right then when she needed me most was the best thing to do, but then again, I didn't have another choice. Instead, I forced a joyless smile onto my face and wrapped her snugly in my arms, holding her in a clenched hug.

"I'll see you tonight," I told her.

"See you later," Isabelle mumbled in reply, her voice muffled against my shoulder.

I took my time pulling away from her again. I held her in my arms for just a few seconds longer, stretching out our final moments together as much as I could, before I eventually withdrew again and stole a glance at Lottie to follow her lead. Lottie seemed to realize right away that I was ready to get going on our way to work and set off back over the snow, offering one last polite smile and wave to Isabelle as she began to walk. I advanced forward to walk at her side.

I followed Lottie over the snow-coated path in the whispered tranquility of the night, over the minutes moving out of the familiarity of the neighborhood and into rows of houses I had never laid eyes on before with darkened windows in the early hour. My head was on a swivel as I tried to take note of my surroundings and burn them into my memory, but it wasn't an easy task to distinguish key locations under the thin starlight shimmering in the space. My arm swayed slightly at my side with every step crunching over the snow as I carried my empty briefcase and poked at the wonder of what work it would soon hold.

Lottie was quiet by my side and didn't utter a word for several minutes, though this wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence, so I didn't spend much thought on it. She appeared to be just as distracted and fidgety as me, eyes darting to study every inch of our surroundings as if it were as unknown of a place to her as it was to me. Fragments of ideas for making conversation spun through my mind but never fully aligned to provide me with something to say. I resorted to silently questioning to myself how she could have memorized the directions herself.

The cluster of new houses came to an end and the path stretched out widely into a vast sea of fresh snow split by a thin cleared road. There was no housing and no residence here with nothing to look at but tall streetlights along the sides. The chill in the air was no longer as intense as the opening of the morning eased up the night's icy grip and the sky was ever-so-slowly starting to lighten and conceal the faded stars.

"How do you feel about beginning work at Happy Home, Digby?" Lottie inquired after we had silently followed the road for a few minutes. "To be honest, I think I'm still processing the fact."

"So am I," I agreed. My new future seemed all the more closer now, almost within my grasp, as we walked to the building for the first time by means of work. Well, at least for me. Wow. I could barely even comprehend it. "I think it'll be great, though. I've been really looking forward to this day since I received your first letter."

Lottie's eyes leaped to meet mine, looking up at me with a shimmer of surprise illuminating them.

"Have you really?" she asked me with such emotion that it seemed like I had just told her that I had decided to run the entire business.

"Yeah, absolutely," I told her, though I held my tongue before the statement could slip out that it might have even been an understatement, given the thrill that had come over me when I had read that letter. Lottie often became flustered so easily and so it would have surely overwhelmed her, not to mention it wasn't the most professional statement to give.

"In that case, it makes me happy to hear that it means so much to you," Lottie said, a slight smile creeping onto her pink face as she tore her gaze away from mine to resume watching the path before us.

Spurts of brief conversations were scattered throughout the remainder of the half-hour walk, but they only passed in and out of my mind as it was not the thought where I devoted my focus. At our leisurely pace, it felt to have lasted an hour rather than the approximate thirty-five minutes it took to reach our destination. The morning had officially begun as the darkness of the sky had transformed into a cloudless pale blue and bursts of pink, orange, and hints of purple painted the base of the horizon. When we arrived at the HHDA, I knew it immediately.

The main building was not among the initial sights as I had assumed. What I first came across with Lottie at my side were the smooth, winding salmon-pink paths that almost precisely matched the color of the sunrise, the flawlessly trimmed hedges that bordered the paths, and the streetlights that were no longer lit for the morning positioned symmetrically and intentionally along the space. A tall stone fountain sat in the center of it all, ceaselessly and peacefully trickling with crystal clear water.

The building stood behind the breathtaking sights, a structure of white brick, a pinkish-red smooth roof at the top, several tinted windows set across the highest floor, and an exceptionally large clock near the top reading a few minutes after seven. Spread out across the front wall above the clock in thin letters the same color as the roof was its title in full length. It was in noticing this that the reminder resurfaced just how big the HHDA actually was. Hundreds of animals from close and far sought to visit and receive insight with every passing day and stood as a highly desired place to visit in person. And I had the opportunity to work there. With the heavenly and the incomparable sight of the building towering over me with the explosion of vibrant colors behind it, there was nothing in this world to convince me that I hadn't just stepped right into paradise.

Compared to what I was faced with when I pushed my way through the doors at Lottie's lead, everything that I had seen outside was simply bland. Even just the first room we emerged into was enough to snatch my breath at the first glance. We first entered a sort of broad hallway splitting off at the end to the left and right, lights leading up to the break in the hallway from both small, circular lights along the ceiling in two separate rows and a fluorescent glow peeking out from the tops of the walls into the edges along the ceiling. Fixed into the wall at the end between the split halls was a silver information tablet with a similar brilliance hiding behind it and various listed directions such as Open Advisory and Main Seminar Room to the left side as well as a route to the right for the second floor.

Lottie's and my collective steps aligned with the steady rhythm of my constant heartbeat dancing in my chest. We proceeded to our destination with no time for hesitation and though this destination was currently unknown to me, I was too caught up in the sights around me to give much of a thought to this. Every space was lit up by both natural and artificial luminosity and the design of even just the spacious hallways we traveled through was subtle and seemed to fit into place just right in a way I couldn't find the words to describe. In some way that I couldn't manage to wrap my head around, the lights and the breathtaking scenery and the way that the high walls encased the rooms flooded me with a warmth like I had just returned to a home that I had never known. With Lottie at my side, I ventured into the newness of it all with wide eyes, a dazzled mind, and that rapid-paced, brisk sense of direct headway into progressive beginnings. I had taken visits to Happy Home a couple of times before, closer to the start of my teenage years with only the intention of attending events with my family, but this was a different experience entirely.

"Uncle Lyle should be in his office right now," Lottie informed me as we climbed the white staircase to the second floor. Her pale blue high heels clicked loudly against the surface, the sound bouncing off of the walls. "I'll let him know that we're here so that he can give you your instructions."

Emerging through the door from the stairs, we entered a more simply designed hallway of sharp lights pointed down at the space and milky white walls and floors that could almost have been considered a marble-like substance if it contained more darker colors. We strode through the hallway side by side with a determined step and a mission to follow, but it was like we were back on the walk to the building as Lottie's gaze drifted along in front of us instead of meeting mine. We made the left turn into a different hall, losing the emptiness and instead found three different wooden doors across the left wall, each with identical intricate designs, a smooth doorknob, and a sheet of glass at eye level about a foot and a half tall to be able to peer into each room.

"That would be my office," Lottie pointed out as we passed by the first closed door and neared the second. "You'll be able to settle into one as well, though I'm not sure if I've mentioned that yet. Yours will be this one coming up in the middle. There might be some old paperwork in there to clear out, but you can just give that to either me or my uncle. Speaking of which, his office is down here at the end of the hall."

I stole a glance into the room that would be my office through the glass pane as we shuffled past. There was a window, likely one of the windows I had seen which were tinted on the other side, directly across the way from the door and allowing a view of the blue sky outside. Sunlight crept across the floors and I could just manage a glimpse of a desk at the other end of the room before we had already passed the door. I dropped my focus and continued on walking.

Lottie brought me to the office door at the end of the hall and rapped on it with a patient knock before peering into the window to look at Lyle in his office. At first, she only studied the room through the glass as if she was still looking for her uncle, but after a few seconds, she stepped back beside me again to allow space for the door to swing open. It was then that Lyle appeared on the other side of the door as I noticed through the glass, clothed in the same suit uniform that I wore now, and thrust the door open to address us from the doorway.

"Good morning," Lyle greeted us, perching his paw over the doorknob to prop the door open as he stood in the doorway. His dark eyes examined us from behind his thick black glasses as if he were scrutinizing our every move. "I trust that you made it here okay."

"Yes, we did," Lottie replied, sparing me a brief glance before quickly turning her attention back to her uncle. "It took a little bit longer than it usually would, I think, but I wanted to make sure that I went through the directions clearly and thoroughly."

"Good. I think that will prove to be very beneficial," Lyle agreed. "Thank you, Lottie. I'll take it from here."

Lottie gave a short nod of acknowledgment, casting me one last glance before she turned away and hustled back the way we had come. I watched as she made her way back through the hallway and ducked into her office at the end while Lyle shut the door of his own to face me.

"Well, I suppose we should just jump right into the introductions," Lyle said as I looked back at him in Lottie's absence. "I doubt you'll be doing much proper work today, since it'll probably take you a little while to settle in, but it's a good time to get you acquainted with the routine and everything you'll be doing. I can show you around the building real quick so that you can learn what room's where."

I didn't have a clue what I was meant to do here or what I was supposed to say, but all I knew was to go with the flow and do it with confidence.

"Sure," I replied with a sort of firm determination in my voice and immediately after speaking was struck with the worry that Lyle would think I was overdoing it. Luckily, Lyle had nothing to say about it as he began to walk back in the direction where I had come from, moving at an unhurried stroll to allow me the chance to walk beside him.

"As I said, it's more likely that you won't be doing very much work today, but here's what to expect when you do," he began as I followed at his side. "While you're working here, you'll be doing the work of both an instructor and a judge. It's generally self-explanatory, but we should still go over it right away so that you can have a strong grasp on it.

"Your work and your responsibilities may vary, so you should be prepared for the directions I'm giving you right now to either change or be expanded upon. Your objective as an instructor is quite basically to demonstrate your knowledge on the workings and procedures of interior design which, if I am correct, you haven't yet acquired. Your task as a judge is executed more loosely, where you will be evaluating and then improving, if you feel there are improvements to be made, upon previous designs that have come around before."

We abandoned the hallway of the offices, taking a right turn into the passageway that I had earlier entered after leaving the stairs. We didn't pause at the door to descend the stairs but instead kept on walking at our casual pace further down the hall. I didn't give an answer, hanging onto every word that was being spoken to me to paste them into my mind.

"I know that it probably sounds like a lot, especially when you're first starting out, but it's something you get used to pretty early on," Lyle told me. "I don't expect you to completely memorize your entire daily routine right from the start, either. Lottie is working on preparing your schedule today. She'll be getting that to you sometime later today when she can get it printed out. A lot of the work that you will do is actually very similar to hers, so most of the time it'll just be you two together by yourselves." A couple steps were spent in silence as the information settled before Lyle pushed out a soft sigh to himself. "Oh, boy."

"I won't let the fact of our friendship affect the ability to work together," I promised. It had begun to seem progressively less like we were all working together and more like Lottie was working for Lyle and I was working for Lottie.

Lyle gave nothing more than a mumble of acknowledgment in response. We kept on walking in silence, past the door that would have opened to the stairs and down the next right turn. Coming around the corner, I found another hall with doors along the side, but this one with only two pale doors and a single tall stretch of glass from the floor to the ceiling next to each one to allow sight into the room. I didn't get the chance to stray close enough to take a peek as Lyle came to a stop at the opening of the hallway, causing me to stop moving with him.

"Those are the main conference rooms," Lyle explained, sending out his paw in a brief and almost half-hearted gesture towards the doors. "As you can guess, this is where all professional meetings are held unless specifically requested to be in a different location. Other than that, this is really all you need to see on this floor for now. If you follow me downstairs to the first floor, I'll show you where the majority of your work will take place."

Together, we traveled back downstairs to the first floor. Almost the entirety of the journey after leveling out again was just a few long and empty corridors, walls lit softly across the tops with a gentle glow like the first room that I had visited. Closer to our destination, the height of the ceilings then slumped as we entered a new segment of the building to create a space that was tall enough to be considered spacious and closed in enough to provoke a sort of homey feel. It almost appeared like a whole different building, a completely different vibe than the first segment had held; while the first was exceptionally modern and aesthetically stylish, the second one that I was led to seemed a bit more old-fashioned in a subtly charming way as it reminded me of the halls of a school.

"Honestly, this is the only time of day that it would be this empty over here," Lyle explained as we turned to enter a hallway that was particularly close to resembling a school for me, with doors along the walls and numbered plates above the doors projecting from the surface of the wall. The space was indeed significantly empty, considering we were the only animals present and the sound of our conversation broke through the silence. "Later on in the day, it'll become very busy and crowded around here. If you're sensitive to loud noises or chaotic environments, we can find something that will work for you."

It felt as though it had been hours since I had first arrived at work and seemed so far away from me now. All of the sights I had ventured through still whirled through my head, keeping my thoughts busy as they leaped from memory to memory. After we had made it downstairs to the first floor, we had taken a brief visit to a set of wide double doors that I was told led to where my work as a judge would commence, a room with a name that had somehow already escaped my mind in the surge of the morning's events. I didn't end up having the opportunity to head inside as I was informed that the doors weren't unlocked until the official workday began. We kept on moving.

"Anyway, this is where the lessons are held during the day and where you'll be for a portion of them. This whole section here," Lyle went on, casting a glance around the hall to allow me to see what he mentioned. "I would show you the rest of the rooms, but it's just more of this. I figured you'd rather spend this time doing what you need to settle in."

Lyle slowed to a stop in the middle of the hallway and I came to a halt as well. When he turned to face me to be able to address me properly, I glanced up at him to listen.

"Well, I think that covers everything for now," Lyle concluded. "If you have any questions at any point in time, you can take them to Lottie. You don't have to worry about where you're going and when you go there until you get your printed schedule from her. I'm guessing that today will be mostly just for introductions like the ones I just gave you and you'll begin your work tomorrow, but there might be something for you to do later today. Maybe in the afternoon."

I gave a nod, though my mind was already whirling with thoughts to try and predict what kind of work would be provided for me to complete. After everything that Lyle had done for me this morning to help me become prepared, I knew that an expressed gratitude was in order, but I instantly caught myself as I spoke before I could slip up into unprofessional habits again.

"Thank you, Mr. Lyle," I said. The formal comment was unusual and unfamiliar to form into words as I had never called him anything but Lyle before now. I wasn't certain how I would get used to it.

"It's a lot of information to take in all at once, so I hope it all makes sense. I'm sure that Lottie's already mentioned this to you, but I'd like to remind you that you must be present in this building to attend work from eight until six. It should be something like seven thirty by now, so you've still got quite a bit of time yet before the doors open. You can use that time to get set up in your new office or do anything else you feel like you need to help you be prepared. Lottie will find you later to talk. And that'll be all from me," Lyle finished his explanation. Though he wasn't normally one for smiles, I could almost see the smile in his dark eyes as he reached over to offer a firm yet sincere pat on my shoulder, perhaps as a way to show good luck or even to show that he was proud of me.

"Welcome to Happy Home, Digby."