By Wednesday Scotlynn was out of bed and dressed just like every other girl in the building. With the exception of staying there rather than face the snowy storm on the way to school. Bon hadn't been to visit her again since she was ill, and she wasted no more time getting ready to find him again. 

No more suspicious activity had been recorded since the week before either, and for that the staff was grateful. While still watching the girls like hawks, the strictness levels had been brought back down to Earth, actual smiles appearing on their faces once in a while. Aside from her meals brought up to her room and her nightly baths, Scotlynn hadn't seen much of the ladies recently. With all the clutter from homework assignments thrown about, signatures needed from Miss Atkinson, and phone calls about childish behavior in the classrooms, there hadn't been time to look after every movement Scotlynn made. She made it to the mess hall without anyone seeing her, or needing to sneak around. She even reached the door to the yard, opening it a crack before closing it again. Even she knew it was too cold outside. 

Bon wouldn't be there today. 

Instead she found herself in the nursery, sitting on the knit rug like she used to, looking at the picture books like she used to, watching the fish swim in their tank like she used to. Her old guardian, Miss Nancy bottled a baby in one arm while managing the book shelf with the other. Someone was crying, while a toddler held a broken toy in her hand, throwing it to the ground and looking for something else to play with. Picking up the broken toy while holding the little girl as tight as she could, Miss Nancy watched Scotlynn pucker her lips at the fish, silently imitating them. Scotlynn knew not to tap on the glass, something the other children always got reprimanded for. With the baby half asleep and the toy set aside for repair, Miss Nancy knelt down to Scotlynn's level and watched the fish with her. 

"Do you see Luna?" Miss Nancy asked. Luna was the name given to the silvery white fish, Scotlynn's favorite. In the back of the tank, surrounded by fish of gold, was her. Scotlynn wordlessly pointed. "There she is. I'd better feed them, huh?"

Scotlynn didn't answer. 

"It's good to see you back here again, Scotlynn," Miss Nancy said standing up to feed the fish. "Been rather lonely without someone who knows how to talk." 

Luna swam away from the goldfish and weaved around the fake plants. After bobbing to the surface for a gulp of air, she met with the front of the tank. Her eyes darted around, seeming to look at Scotlynn. Her fins rotated like windmills, her mouth puckering up. 

"She knows you," Miss Nancy said, setting the bottle down and placing a cloth on her shoulder. "She remembers you."

Scotlynn was lost in her own world of fish and dolphins, whales and sharks. Scales glittering like diamonds as the sun hit the water, hitting her face as she came up for air like Luna did in her tank. She hardly noticed when the door to the nursery opened, and in walked Miss Atkinson. 

A second cry took Scotlynn's attention away from the tank. In Miss Atkinson's arms was a little bundle, wrapped in a pale yellow blanket. Miss Nancy finished burping the child in her arms and placed her in a nearby crib, pulling the safety bars up. "Hello, Nancy, we've just got another one today," Miss Atkinson cooed.

"Let me see, oh she's darling!" Miss Nancy took the crying baby in her arms and gently bounced her. "And what might your name be?"

"Her name is Millie," Miss Atkinson answered for her. "Brought in by a relative who took her after her parents died. Living on loans as it is, she had to send her to us." Millie's crying quieted, but stirred some of the other children in the room. A few toddlers became curious of the new sound and made way to inspect under the grown ups' feet. Scotlynn wondered if she had cried this much when she arrived. 

"Oh, Millie, you must be hungry. The relative just leave her here?"

"After giving me some papers and signing some in return. I could tell she felt bad, didn't want to drop her off here but..." Miss Atkinson gave Millie a kiss on the head before waddling around the curious two year olds to the door. "Let's hope this place doesn't shut down then. She's got somewhere to go, but even then, she can't afford her."

"We can," Miss Nancy said following the pudgy woman to the door. "We can pay for her, and we're not shutting down. If they can't control one man who won't mind his own business, then they can't take control over a whole orphanage."

"Let's hope. Bye, everyone!" Miss Atkison waved goodbye to the children who in turn gave her puzzled looks and went back to their toys. The door closed, shoes echoing down the hall to the stairs, and Millie left in the care of the nursery to live in and grow. Miss Nancy knelt down to Scotlynn again.

"We have a new girl, Scotlynn, her name is Millie. See?" Scotlynn saw. She was pink and her face was scrunched up. She couldn't have been a year old. The bundle was placed in her arms, each one adjusted to give the baby full support before being sat in a nearby rocking chair. "I'm going to make her a bottle, okay? I need your help looking after her. Can you do that?" Scotlynn only nodded. Left to watch over the new girl, a few others wanted to see her too. Her hair was thin and yellow. Her eyes were blue, still susceptible to change when she got older. Scotlynn was afraid she'd get lost in the snow outside her skin was so pale. Scotlynn looked at her own skin. Living in London, it wasn't much better. 

A finger reached up and poked Millie's nose. She moved her head, not appreciating the foreign touch. The same finger tapped her nose with frequency, disturbing Millie further. She began to cry, much to Scotlynn's annoyance. "Stop that!" she yelled, pushing the hand away. Ignoring Scotlynn's request, the rebellious toddler continued to touch, poke, and grab Millie's face. "Go away! Stop!" 

Scotlynn couldn't help herself. At least, she didn't try to. The toddler hit the ground rather hard, immediately beginning to cry just as Millie's had stopped. Miss Nancy turned her head. "Oh!" Setting the bottle down to cool, she hurried to the injured child and looked her over. "It's alright, you're not hurt too bad. Shh...you're fine. Scotlynn?" She didn't answer, knowing good and well how much trouble she was in. "You never push anyone, do you hear me? You could have really hurt her. Scotlynn, look at me."

Scotlynn slowly lifted her head from Millie's gaze. 

"Get up from the chair and sit Millie next to me." She did as she was told. Millie was gripped tighter while the chair rocked, then let go once safe on the floor. "You need to apologize to Sophie," Miss Nancy said sternly. Scotlynn brushed her black buckled shoe against the carpet. "Now," Miss Nancy said. 

"Sorry," Scotlynn said. It was no more than a mumble. 

"Thank you." Before any of the other children could block her way, she ran to the door and out of the nursery, her locket jangling in her pocket; leaving Miss Nancy, a crying Sophie, Millie, and Luna behind her. 

Scotlynn wiped away a few tears herself. 

Later that evening, Scotlynn sat alone at the table, her fork drawing endless circles in her mashed potatoes. The girls were back from school, all eagerly shoving food down their mouths and down other's shirts. The older ones sat apart, gossiping about the newest boy at the high school. All of them were still in their uniforms, a sea of identical children. Only one, Jimmie Bean swinging a yo-yo from her finger, which she had gotten for a deck of twenty four cards, had pinned several little novelty badges on her shirt, leaving hardly any white spaces left. Mrs. Valerie always had a time washing it. The chair wobbled as she plopped herself down next to Scotlynn, wiping the dirt off her hands awfully close to Scotlynn's dinner plate.

"Sure beats playin' hours of solitaire," Jimmie said setting her yo-yo on the table. A plate had been saved for her earlier, and she wasted no time grabbing a fork and taking a bite bigger than what could fit in her mouth. "What about you, eh?" she asked, potatoes falling on her lap. "What are you always up to?"

"What do you think Bon's doing right now?" Scotlynn asked, her potatoes losing steam.

Jimmie nearly choked. "I'm not askin' ya' what Bon's doin', I'm askin' what you're doin'!" She took another bite, this one a touch smaller. "You haven't been talkin' to him lately, have you?"

Scotlynn shook her head. "He hasn't been around much."

"Good. You know what Miss A. would do if she saw him." Jimmie looked around at all the talking girls, and upon seeing none of them paying the two any mind, she lowered her voice. "There's been talk, ya' know. 'Bout some stranger man around this place. You know, lookin' for little girls to make disappear."

"Miss Atkinson said not to worry about it," Scotlynn argued.

"Of course she's gonna say that, she doesn't want all the girls scared!" Scotlynn forced down a bite of potatoes just so she didn't have to answer. "If what she says is true, she might send us all away!"

That's just what Scotlynn had been hearing on the phone. Where would they all go? What about the babies, what about Millie? No one could afford to take her anyway, she'd be helpless. Scotlynn could be lucky enough to find Bon and live with him, but she couldn't say the same for the other girls. Quickly she shook the thought from her mind. 

"Course I'd go live with my nanny up in Edinburgh," Jimmie went on. "She's got a small farm up there. Lots of goats an' cows, an' things like that."

"Why didn't you go there first?" Scotlynn asked.

"I would have, but my nanny already has a lot of kids up there," Jimmie said. "Not enough room for me." Jimmie chewed her potatoes and put her chin on her hand. "But they got room for all them stinkin' animals."

Scotlynn put her fork down. Her appetite had never been there, and now the potatoes only made her sick. Jimmie couldn't help but notice the lack of activity on her plate. "You gonna eat those, kid?"

Scotlynn pushed her plate away. 

"What about you, huh?" Jimmie asked. 

"What about me?"

"You don't got anywhere to go, do ya'?" The look on the four year old's face said it all. Jimmie stopped chewing. "Don't even think about it. You only met that man, you don't know where he lives, or what he's capable of!"

"I know enough, Bon wouldn't ever hurt me."

"He's a stranger, kid, and a man! You know why men don't work here?" Scotlynn shook her head. "Well, to be honest I don't know either. But there's gotta be a reason. Else we'd see them all the time. Of course, there are a few men who work at the schools, but they're not tied to the orphanage, they can do whatever they want."

"Bon won't ever hurt me," Scotlynn insisted. "He's a friendly man, he's not one of the bad ones."

"If you ask me, I wouldn't ever take a bite of a hundred apples jus' to find one good one in a batch of worms." Neither one spoke for a minute. "Don't ask me, I don't know what I said either."

"Please don't tell anyone," Scotlynn said, giving Jimmie a pleading look. 

"Tell anyone what?"

"About Bon."

"Will you stop sayin' his name? Kids are gonna get suspicious." Jimmie leaned in and lowered her voice even more. Scotlynn could see the badges on her shirt clearly now, one of them for the American elections. "Look, I'll keep my mouth shut for ya', I won't tell anyone about him. You don't even have to get me a battery. But you've gotta stop seein' this man. He could hurt you, he could hurt us! He could be usin' you to get to us, you ever think of that?"

Scotlynn hadn't thought of any of that. And for good reason. Bon never gave any impression of meaning any harm. Perhaps she'd ask him next time she saw him. If she saw him. 

"He hasn't been around to talk to anyway," Scotlynn said laying her head on the table. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Good. Now...you gonna eat your bean sprouts?"

Something cold poured over Scotlynn's head. She could feel it coat her shirt and run down her back, sending a chill down her spine. Water dripped in her eyes from her hair, landing on the table in little drops. Turning around, the two girls saw another girl with orange hair, and a white bandage over a yellow bruise on her nose. "That's what nits like you get," she taunted. "For what you did to me."

"Listen, Tabby, it was an accident," Jimmie said, remembering exactly what happened that day. Everyone in the building heard about a four year old hurting a girl a bit older, and marveling at her strength. Without condoning it of course. Scotlynn did her best to keep to herself during dinner but she couldn't help but catch the dirty glances of Tabby, the orange haired girl. "The kid didn't mean to break your nose."

"Then I didn't mean to spill my water," Tabby said taking a step back. Her glass "slipped" from her hand and hit Scotlynn hard on the head. "And I didn't mean to throw my cup."

Scotlynn's eyes burned, her head felt hot. She could see some attention from the other girls had been aroused, a few standing up in their spots to see what happened. With Old Shana in the kitchen and Miss Atkinson at the front desk, Scotlynn stood from her seat and lunged at Tabby. 

Screams echoed, fists collided with noses again and other areas of the face, and jeers came from the table. A good amount of hair on Tabby's head was pulled, a few orange strands littering the floor. Teeth sunk into an arm, and from the seats at the back of the table it was difficult to tell which arm, or whose. Jimmie would have broken it up, but she was too excited to be this close to witness it that she forgot to try. 

The commotion in the mess hall brought in a stampede of staff members, a red faced Miss Atkinson hobbling behind them. Old Shana came out from the kitchen just in time to see Miss Atkinson fall as she attempted to separate the scuffle. She threw the pot in her hand against the wall, the sound scaring everybody in the room. All eyes turned to her, the two girls picked up off the floor. 

"That. Is enough," Old Shana said, stepping over the pot rattling on the floor. Towering over the girls, both of them shaking with fear and anger, Old Shana placed her hands on her hips. Her wrinkled face just earned a few more from the frown she gave them. "I don't know what on Earth has possessed you two to kill each other over spilt milk, but this is not acceptable here. Do you understand me?"

The two girls nodded without making any eye contact. 

"Now both of you back to your rooms, dinner is over. If you're gonna wear it rather than eat it, then you're gonna sleep instead of eat." Miss Atkinson grabbed Scotlynn by the arm and pulled her toward the door, leaving Tabby to take herself to her room. 

"Come on, Scotlynn, come with me." Her voice was not at all pleasant. 

Her feet hurt after climbing, rather running after Miss Atkinson up those stairs. Miss A. herself was panting by the time she reached room seven. The door slammed open and Scotlynn was taken to the bed, the covers pulled up to her chin. "To bed with you, Scotlynn. Now."

"She started it!" Scotlynn said, her hair still damp. 

"It doesn't matter who started it, you're both in trouble for it. Now go to sleep."

"But my hair is wet!" Miss Atkinson didn't answer. "It doesn't feel good on my pillow."

"Then dry it off, Scotlynn!" The little girl pulled the covers over her face. Miss Atkinson stood in the doorway and sighed. "Honestly, I expected better from you. It'd be easier if you were older, and you were in school, but we've got to keep our eyes on you. Now we have to keep our eyes on you at dinner? Because you can't control yourself?" Scotlynn felt her eyes burning again. "Go to sleep, Scotlynn, and give us all a break."

The door slammed shut, Miss Atkinson's loud heels leaving for the stairs. Scotlynn pulled the blankets over her head and let the tears spill out. Her room was dark and the hallway empty, no one around to barge in on her moment of humiliation. Nothing she did seemed to be the right thing to do. In defending herself, she got sent to her room early. In defending someone else, she hurt a young toddler. And got yelled at both times. She had enough. If Miss Atkinson wanted a break, and if none of the other girls wanted her around, fine. 

Bon would want her.

She left her bed, the covers and sheets askew, and opened her closet. All of her clothes were taken off the hanger and placed on the floor in a big pile. Every girl had been given a suitcase should they ever need something to pack their clothes in when they were adopted. Scotlynn's had been placed in the corner of the closet. It was white with peeling butterfly stickers on it. She pulled it out, and set it down, open on the floor. Her clothes were shoved inside, and the suitcase was zipped shut. 

Putting on her shoes was difficult. Her hands shook too much to buckle the straps properly. She buttoned her coat, feeling the locket in the right pocket. It felt like fish scales. 

There were no fish where she was, but perhaps there would be fish where she was going. 

She stood her suitcase up, and pulled the handle just long enough for her little hand to grasp properly. She paused when she saw her telephone made of cans on the floor. It took her too long to make them to leave them behind, and her clothes were moved aside to make room. Glancing at her bookcase, she saw her Eloise books lined up. Only one would fit, so she had to make it count. Her hand grasped Eloise in Paris, another place Scotlynn wanted to visit more than anything. 

Except the moon, of course. 

Rolling her bag behind her and feeling the locket for the hundredth time that evening, she opened her bedroom door, and left. No one to the left of her, and no one to the right, she wheeled her belongings down the hall to the stairs. She pushed the handle down and grabbed the sides of the suitcase, taking one step at a time. It was heavy, and almost knocked her backwards down the flight. To her fortune the other girls were eating in the mess hall and wouldn't catch her. To her misfortune, Miss Atkinson lived on the first floor and would send her right back to bed if she caught her, perhaps force her to eat left over chicken feathers from the school cafeteria. 

Scotlynn tiptoed past the nursery, all crying ceased as the babies were either feeding or asleep. Standing on her toes, she could see through the little window. Miss Nancy was holding Millie, a big smile on her face. Almost all the cribs were occupied, only one baby was awake. Without her to hurt any of the kids and cause trouble, it was perfect. Miss Nancy was happy. 

Scotlynn was okay with that. 

The second set of stairs was easier. In case any of the babies needed to be taken up and down, they were less steep and not as numerous. Her suitcase didn't get any lighter, however, and she almost dropped it. 

As she stepped off the last stair into the front lobby, she peered around the corner. Miss Atkinson wasn't at her desk for once in her life. Loud talking could be heard in the mess hall, Scotlynn's appetite returning. She held her stomach, hoping to drown out the noise. Rolling her suitcase to the front door, thinking this mission was much too easy, she gave one last look at the mess hall door. Miss Atkinson's voice was right on the other side. Quickly she opened the front door, and slipped through, getting out of sight just in time.

She never imagined how cold it would be outside. Her wet hair made it all the worse. Snow piled up on the sidewalk, still falling. She pulled her suitcase behind her through the snow with difficulty, heaving and panting the whole way. The locket was still in her pocket, her eyes still wet with tears. 

Streetlights gave her a slight idea where she was, but no idea where to go. This was the first time she ever set foot outside the orphanage on her own, and she hoped it would be the only time. If they went looking for her, she'd run to Paris. 

This was of course, before she learned proper geography. 

Through the dimly lit glow of the lamps she saw the corner. The corner where the buses took the kids to school, the corner where Maude turned to go to her new home. The corner she so long desired to turn herself, and see what was around it. Now that she was here, she was nervous. Her heart beat faster, her hands starting to sweat. Taking a deep breath, she clutched her suitcase, felt for her locket, and looked both ways before crossing the street to the corner. 

Around it was nothing more than some buildings, streets, and more lamps. Trees, a bit of garbage, and an old, fat rat running to hide behind a trash can. A sort of disappointment replaced the fear, and she felt rather cold again. Her braids blew behind her, her cheeks like ice. Snow dotted her hair like sprinkles. Street after street she crossed, getting as much distance between her and that orphanage as she could. She could hear the cans knock against each other in her suitcase every time a wheel rolled over a rock. 

Coming upon a park, she stopped to take a seat on a nearby bench. It was covered in a thin sheet of snow, and her bare hand brushed it off, freezing it instantly. Her luggage was growing heavier by the minute. She sat down and wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. Her nose ran, her feet ached, her hands shook. She swung her feet back and forth on the bench, wondering if maybe this wasn't such a good idea. No one had any idea where she was, and frankly, neither did she. She hadn't bothered to leave them a note. They'd never find it anyway. 

And, well, she couldn't read or write just yet. 

She hugged herself, hiding her hands in her pockets. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a dark shadow. It wasn't a big shadow by any means, but on a cold and dark night it was something to keep an eye on. It wouldn't move. No matter how hard she stared at it, it wouldn't move. Looking away for one second, it left its spot and vanished behind her. She grabbed her locket and played around with it, making sure the feeling stayed in her hands. The shadow was gone, the only thing left was a red streetcar, driving by on the street in front of her, turning another corner. 

She gasped when a gloved hand grabbed her shoulder and turned her around.