"Hello, there."

Five-year-old Siren looks up at the two men in front of her. Jorge, and a man she has seen before, but does not know by name. "Hi," she says.

"This is Amery," Jorge says, patting the man on the shoulder. He has a thickly grown, brown beard. His eyes are brown, too, with a hint of green. He can't be younger than thirty.

"Okay. Nice to meet you, I guess." She looks at Jorge. "I don't communicate with your men. Just you and sometimes Barkley, because he's always close to you."

Jorge nods. "That's right. But as I mentioned before, I'm placing guards in front of you and Brenda's rooms."

Right, because last time, one of Jorge's real guards got inside the building and was about to open the door to Siren's room. A Crank, who would've killed her in her sleep.

"Alright," she says, and shakes Amery's hand. Its enormous compared to hers.

"Barkley will be placed in front of Brenda."

Her head tilts to the side. "So you really chose the nicest ones for us."

"Hey, be nice," he warns.

She can't hide her smile. "Sorry. It really is nice to meet you, Amery. Is that your first name?"

"Last name," he confirms.

"Can I know your first name?"

He smiles back. Or she's just imagining it, behind that beard. "That's a secret. Maybe one day, I'll tell you."

"You better." The girl looks down. Jorge got her some old shoes that look like tennis shoes. They haven't been able to get the girls clothes for a while. They usually wear Jorge's shirts, which fit like dresses. When they feel like it, they tighten it around their waist with a long shoelace. Makes her feel like a Roman.

"Can I go back to drawing now?" She asks impatiently.

"What were you drawing?"

"It's hard to explain. Just come take a look." Siren motions for Amery to follow her inside her room. It's really small. A single bed in the corner, wooden walls, and a mini desk with one single drawer. She keeps her drawing equipment in there. Other than that, she doesn't have any objects that are important to her.

"So that's a tree." She points at the figure. "And that's the sky. And that's the sun. And that's me."

"And who's that?"

"That's also me."

"All five of the girls are you?"

"Yes. I count for five people, that's how good I am," she explains, tone serious. "I can draw you in there as well, if you want. But you'll be way smaller than me. You're just a guard, after all."

"Just a guard, after all?" he repeats, chuckling. "Okay, whatever you say. Why don't you have hair, though?"

"It's white. But the paper is white, so you can't see it."

"Maybe use a yellowish color. Blonde?"

"No." Offended, she scowls at him. "I have white hair. Don't you have eyes to see that?"

His eyes fill with amusement. "Sorry. My apologies, Siren."

"Thank you." Now satisfied, she continues running her pencil across the paper, creating... what, exactly?

"What's that?"

"The trails a plane leaves behind."

"Ah, right."

"You may go now."

"I think it's amusing to—"

"May means must, Amery," she says sternly.

"Okay, okay." He laughs as he gets up, running a hand through his hair. "Don't make it too late. Good night, Siren."

"Night. Better watch my door very well."

"Will do."

"Because I have the possibility to fire you," she adds.

"Of course you do."

"And I have the possibility to throw you in the Crank pit. So shush and go do your job."

"Yes, ma'am."

Once the door closes, a quiet giggle leaves her mouth before she continues drawing.