Authors note: and the mystery starts... Hope you like it!

"Obliviate!"

Anna was just eleven years old when the uncertain winds of fate brought her to the doors of Wools Orphanage, leaving her with nothing but her name, Anna Smith, and a vague memory of her journey there. Mrs. Cole, the compassionate yet stern owner of the orphanage, had welcomed her with a kind, albeit reserved, smile. Her warm gesture was a small solace in Anna's world of unknowns.

As Mrs. Cole escorted Anna to her new living quarters, the room presented itself as an eclectic mix of the mundane and the mysterious. The wardrobe, standing tall and slightly imposing, bore the curious marks of charring around its edges, as if it had narrowly escaped a fiery encounter. Its darkened borders seemed to whisper tales of forgotten yesterdays. On the window sill, precisely placed, were seven smooth stones, each unique in size and hue, casting playful shadows in the afternoon sun.

"Why are those stones there?" Anna inquired with a child's innocent curiosity, her eyes fixated on the enigmatic arrangement. Mrs. Cole, taken aback by the question, shifted uncomfortably, her expression clouding over with a mix of reluctance and admonition. "No questions, you silly girl!" she chided with a sternness that belied her earlier kindness. Anna, sensing the change in atmosphere, nodded in subdued acknowledgment, a crestfallen look crossing her face as she worried about having offended Mrs. Cole.

Once left alone, Anna began to acquaint herself with her sparse belongings-a pencil, a notebook filled with blank pages waiting to be filled, a small collection of dresses, and a cherished wooden toy, each item a fragment of her life's story. She meticulously arranged them, instilling a sense of order in her new, yet strange world. Her exploration then extended to her surroundings: the room, washed in shades of gray, featured a dusty oak floor that creaked with stories of yesteryears, a modest white bed tucked away in the corner, the intriguing charred wardrobe, a simple nightstand, and a small, unassuming gray rug that lay quietly beneath her feet.

Drawn inexorably to the window sill, Anna reached out to one of the stones, its surface smooth and cool to the touch. But as soon as her fingers grazed it, a surprising heat forced her to retract her hand swiftly. Puzzled, she examined her palm, expecting to find a mark or a burn, but her skin was unscathed. Perplexed by the stone's peculiar reaction, and feeling the weight of the day's events, Anna decided to surrender to the embrace of sleep.

Her rest, however, was short-lived. A strange noise, like the subtle shifting of an unseen presence, jolted her awake. Heart pounding, she found herself in the aftermath of a disconcerting dream-a vision of a boy with jet-black hair, his face contorted in distress, reprimanded by an unseen figure. Still disoriented, Anna's gaze instinctively darted towards the window sill. One of the stones was conspicuously absent. Scanning the room in the dim moonlight, she noticed the missing stone perched atop the enigmatic wardrobe. Drawn by an inexplicable curiosity, yet hesitating in the shadow of the unknown, she was curious, yes, but she eventually succumbed to sleep.

As the first light of dawn crept through her window, Anna awoke to the unfamiliar surroundings of her new room. With a sense of purpose, she rose and dressed herself, the fabric of her clothes whispering softly against her skin. Her mind was filled with the practicalities of the morning ahead. She was just about to step out into the corridor, her thoughts occupied with locating the bathroom, when a timid knock at the door interrupted her.

"Yes?" she responded, her voice tinged with a hint of cautious curiosity. The door creaked open slowly, revealing a small boy on the threshold. He couldn't have been more than eight, his eyes wide with the tentative bravery of the young. "H-hi, I'm Jack Thorne," he introduced himself, his voice trembling slightly as he extended a hand towards her. "Anna Smith," she replied with a polite nod, accepting his handshake with a gentle grasp. "Um, do you know where the bathroom is?" she inquired, her question hanging in the air between them.

Jack's face brightened into a smile, a gesture of relief and friendliness. He pointed down the corridor with a small, assured gesture. "Down the corridor and to the left," he informed her helpfully. "Thanks," Anna responded with a grateful smile. "Happy to help," Jack replied, his smile still lingering, a bridge of kindness in the strange new world they both inhabited.

Just as Anna was about to depart, a thought struck her. "Oh, and was there a reason you came to talk to me?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. Jack's expression shifted as he remembered his original purpose. "Oh yeah, make sure to be at breakfast for eight. They don't like it when you're late," he advised, the earnestness in his voice conveying the importance of this shared rule. "Oh! Ok, thanks, and nice to meet you!" Anna exclaimed, a sense of urgency in her tone as she glanced at the clock (it was already seven-thirty). "Nice to meet you too!" Jack called out after her, his voice trailing off as she hurried out of the room.

Anna arrived at the breakfast hall just as the clock chimed eight, the sound marking her timely entrance. Scanning the room, she quickly spotted Jack, her new acquaintance, perhaps even a friend in this uncharted territory. She made her way over to him, her steps a mixture of eagerness and hesitation, and took a seat next to him, a silent acknowledgment of the nascent bond they had begun to form.