Umie steps back careful not to knock over storage buckets tucked next a metal shelving.

A team of anthropologists carefully load a mummy onto the table at the center of the room. It's a beautiful painted cartonnage cover with a golden headdress, and facial features painted onto it.

"Easy guys, theses bodies are very fragile." Mr. William instructs. He's the head of studies and technically a "teacher" of the students who come to the museum to learn about anthropology.

Anthropology is all about what makes us human, our place in nature, our common concerns and our differences. Field Museum anthropologists explore these issues through laboratory and collections-based research at the Museum and at field sites throughout the world. They build and maintain the Museum's world class collections which now include more than a million and a half objects documenting the diversity and accomplishments of humankind. The scientists also teach others, through exhibits, public programs and advanced training.

Umie tucks a pink strand of hair behind her ear. She readies the door as the anthropologists wheel the mummy out of the room. Several students squeak in excitement talking about how they'll finally be able see the body of an ancient Egyptian being.

No one has ever been able to see inside the mummy and, see what's going on. One thing that really excites the museum's scientists is the possibility of using state of the art techniques to get three dimensional objects in the collections. The mummies have been in the Field Museum collections for decades, and relatively little research has been done on them because people quite frankly were worried about damaging the mummies by trying to study them. So it's really a wonderful opportunity when one can use a catscan machine without touching, without opening anything up. They can then reconstruct what's inside.

Contrary to the image of mummies portrayed by the popular Scooby-Doo cartoon, mummies are not monsters, capable of smashing through walls; in fact, most mummies are too fragile even to stand on end. Egyptian mummies are embalmed lying on their back, and so fit easily into a medical CT scanner, which looks a bit like a spaceship with a table for the patient that slides through a hole in the middle of the machine.

Not only can scientists see inside the wrappings of a mummy using this technology, they can also create 3D models for Museum visitors to manipulate. Viewers can strip off layer after layer, head to toe, and down to the bare bone, using an interactive touch screen computer. In addition to 3D modeling for Museum-goers to manipulate, the CT scanner can help scientists reconstruct incomplete human and animal skulls, by scanning the bone fragments, and then using surgical software to perform facial reconstruction.

Umie glimpses at the headdress and feels her insides clench; though it isn't from nausea from the thought of a dead body. She never thought she'd be one to enjoy glimpsing at dead corpses, but instead of feeling nauseous and wanting to avoid looking at the body, she's actually interested as she follows the group out the door.

Umie adjusts her blue blouse and tightens the clip holding back her hair. Its natural color is a dark brown, but Nari managed to somehow convince her to get a pastel ombre. Obviously she's becoming a bad influence.

Given she's a college student, the museum was able to look past fading colors of pink to pale purple. Umie would've picked only one, but the colors seemed so pretty from online pictures that she decided it would be a great idea. She and Nari were supposed to do it together, but Nari backed out, only getting brown highlights to her already brunette color. It took Nari a month to make that one up to Umie.

After escorting the archeologists outside, Umie returns to her place at the front desk of the museum. There she finds Nari sitting in her computer chair, playing around on her phone while rotating her chair back and forth.

"Glad to see you're using your time wisely." Umie exaggerates.

"You know what, I am on break Umie." Nari retorts.

"Yeah," Umie scoffs. She plops down into her own chair and rolls up to the computer. "You always seem to be on break."

Nari only smiles and shrugs. She locks her phone and scoots closer to Umie. There's a small fridge under the front desk for employees to store their lunches. The museum usually quiets down around twelve or one o'clock. Still the walls echo with conversations of guests and the squeals of excited children vibrate through the marble floors.

The entire hall is soaring and grand with the Sue model – the largest recorded t-rex in history is displayed just behind the front desk. Also one of the curators thought it would be a brilliant idea to install a giant replica of a Blue Whale right above the front desk. The thing still instills fear of crashing in Umie's mind.

As Umie finishes filing the purchase of a family's tickets, Nari trifles through the fridge and pulls out a plastic container filled with spaghetti, then a smaller one with parmesan cheese.

Umie giggles. "Is there any day when you don't eat my mom's spaghetti?"

"Oh my god . . . it's so good." Nari whispers. "So how was that mummy thing?"

Nari asks as she pop open the cap and sprinkles the cheese on top.

"Not bad. I'm actually fascinated to see what they see."

"How is it that you can't watch a horror movie, yet when it comes to real dead bodies, you turn into Luis Alverez?" Nari teases.

"Who?"

"He was a famous paleontologist."

"Oh. Are you going to eat that cold?" Umie asks. Nari looks to her with just a wide-eyed face. Umie laughs. "Shouldn't you heat it up first?"

Nari groans. "But it's so far from here to the employee dream room."

Umie laughs and shakes her head. "It's not that far a walk."

"I don't want to go." Nari whines.

Umie rolls her eyes and looks back to the screen of her computer. "So how you liking your film editing class?"

"Oh ma goshh," Nari muffles through the food in her mouth. She holds up her finger to give her a second, and she swallows heavily. "Okay, so we were assigned to make a trailer of a movie, and I got partnered with this kid who uses the lamest and slowest software EVER!"

Umie laughs.

"Umie, it is the worst software . . . ever. And I'm just, sweet mother Teresa. It's so slow, and I suggest we use Sony Vegas, but no! He wants to use his software and I go, but it's a bit slow. And he just . . . he's just so stupid -!"

"You want a pretzel?" Umie interrupts with a laugh.

"Thank you Umie. Thank you." Nari answers instantly changing her tone.

Umie laughs even more and covers her mouth.

"Oh my Jesus, Umie. This kid . . ."

"I can't believe we volunteered to work here." Umie says.

"You don't like it?" Nari asks.

"I don't hate it, but I just don't like that it's a requirement for my mythology class in order to get extra credit."

"I get it. Better here than staying late after school." Nari points out.

"I guess. Being late at school kind of creeps me out." Umie says.

"Really? That's how I feel about it during the day."

Umie keeps laughing as she's typing. There's a buzzing sound and Nari fishes out her phone and taps the screen to stop a timer. She groans.

"Ughh, I need to get back to work." Nari complains.

"Just go in back and put in some music. Time will fly by." Umie says.

"Come with me."

"I need to stay up front." Umie snorts.

"Trade with me."

"No."

Nari groans again and gets up from the seat to return to the back room. For the rest of the day Umie spends it taking one visitor after another, taking phone calls to confirm the purchase of tickets while Nari stocks shelves and maintains the sights and exhibits.

By the end of the day, the majority of the lights are off in the great hall and the only sounds are the clinking of the janitor's keys as he redirects a mop bucket from one end of the room to the other. Umie finishes organizing the files and closing the cabinet she gathers her things and head to the back to find Nari for her ride home.

She was never a fan of the back room, except for when she wants to escape from the public for some peace and quiet. She pushes open the push-bar door with her hip.

"Nari!" Umie calls.

Inside, the musty air held an antique thickness, and the scent of dust and aging books combined to make breathing a chore. The front room stretched before her long and narrow, lined with rows of tall, sturdy bookshelves that reached almost the ceiling. Overhead, the tired light of lights burned a dull gold, adding little relief to the accumulated shadows. Carefully, Umie stepped around a mound of ancient looking tomes gathered near the door. She moves between two shelves and thought about calling out but for some reason, she can't bring herself to break the dead silence. Her gaze passes up and over the marked spines of countless books, every item categorized by its own number and date, and it made her feel almost as though she is walking through catacombs. When she reaches the end, she peer around the shelf to see a counter. Well, really, she sees a lot of books piled on top of something that at one time must have been a counter.

Ghosting her fingers along the metal shelving, she comes to an old logbook squished at the very end. Its old parchment and leather binding showed it was probably from the mid-18th century. Pulling it off the shelf, she blows on the cover, stirring up a cloud of dust.

The thing was heavy and thick. The cover has long been worn away and all that's left are faint gold etchings. Its yellow pages are crisp and wrinkled, popping and cracking as she breezes through them with her thumb. They went easily, as though the pages spent more time being pinned apart than clumped together. Its spine made a soft creaking noise as she pulls it open. Sheets of folded paper fall out to the floor, puddling at her feet. Gathering them up, Umie finds the nearest armchair and table and begin reading through it. It mainly talks about the original owners, along with a few handwritten sections, as if from a personal diary.

Purple writing covered every inch of buttery parchment. It was the most beautiful handwriting she's ever seen. Each loop and every curl connected cleanly to make the writing itself appear as perfect and uniform as a printed font. It baffles Umie how someone could sit and take the time to form letter so meticulously. The folded sheets of paper talk about secret passages all throughout an estate for emergencies in time of war. Others held small notes that she's sure were meant to be put in later.

She flips the book shut and places it back on the shelf and continues on towards locating Nari.

"Nari!" she finally calls.

"Yeah!" she hears her reply. It sounded a little further back.

"Where are you?!"

"Hang on!"

Umie sighs and leans against the metal posting and waits. She glances around the room, gazing at all the artifacts soon to be on display. Catching her eye is a monstrously huge oil painting, a portrait of a terrifyingly beautiful woman with glowing gold eyes.

Umie glances down to her hand where she looks to the tennis bracelet given to her by her grandfather. This bracelet for her features oval amethysts set in sterling silver frames. This elegant fine jewelry bracelet is decorated with diamonds and secured with a tongue clasp. It sparkles in the light, as if each jewel held its own glowing ember within.

After his passing when she was a senior in high school, Umie made sure to wear the bracelet to the event. And she could never explain why, but she just seemed in a better mood that day; as said by, everyone. Ever since then, the bracelet has become a statement for any outfits she wears for any occasion.

"Umie!" Nari calls, breaking her train of memories.

"Hey, you all set?" Umie asks as Nari approaches slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

"Yep! Let's go!" Nari says excitedly.

She boldly leads the way out of the back room. As they girls talk they reenter the main hall, and suddenly Umie realizes that it's eerily quiet. She looks around, and right as she spots the janitor's unconscious body on the ground, the security lights on the metal rafters high above blare on and for a few seconds the girls are blinded. The girls squeal and cover their eyes. The sirens inside begin to blare loudly and Umie grabs Nari by the arm or shoulder and hauls her behind the front desk. The sirens holler aggressively and Nari tries to shout over them when Umie covers her mouth. Umie puts a finger to her own lips to silence Nari and she nods.

Both girls can hear their hearts pounding in their ears. True that the museum tests the security system, but that was on the first Tuesday of every month. Today it's the third Thursday of June.

Umie stays crouched with Nari and carefully peers around the corner in time to find two men dressed in black carrying a painting. Umie's seen that before; it belonged in the medieval section of the museum.

The museum's being robbed.

The girls' first instinct is to call the police, but the phone is on the other side of the desk and the lobby doesn't provide service on their phones. Umie is caught between taking them on, or trying to stall them.

She leans close to Nari and whispers. "Get to the phone, I'll try and keep them here."

"What?! Are you crazy?!" Nari hisses back.

"I'll, stall them. Misdirection and camouflage."

"How?!"

Umie looks around and opens the drawer of change located next to the register. She fishes around until she finds a roll of nickels. If there's still money there, and no signs of them trying to break it open, they're not after cash.

Carefully peeking her head above the desk, she spots a light hanging on the wall. Umie readies the rolls of coins and thinks back to the knife throwing lesson she had with her uncle one summer in Colorado. After flicking her eyes back and forth between the wall and thieves, she chucks it across and thankfully it lands true, the roll shattering and clanging against the glass shade.

"What was that? Is someone still working here?" one thief asks.

"I don't know, but if there is we need to get this out of here fast!" the other responds.

Nari carefully inches towards the phone while Umie takes the chance to snatch more coin rolls and dash behind a large platform of replicated mammoths.

"There's coins scattered on the floor." The one thief says. "Someone is here, and they're playing with us."

"What should we do? Play back?" the other replies, and Umie can hear the smile on his lips.

She looks left and right and nearly screams when she finds the body of the janitor lying beside her. She clamps her hands over her mouth and looks to him quickly. There's no pool of blood or any signs of being shot or stabbed. She pressed two fingers to his neck and feels a pulse.

Sighing in relief, Umie looks back and can see Nari getting closer to the phone. Umie looks around and back up further into the shadows as she throws another roll, aiming over the shoulder of one thief. It crashes and he turns around. By now, one of them has set the painting down and is looking away.

Umie fights the urge to run up and take the other one out. She's taken classes, she can fight. But still there's that part of her that always underestimates herself. So she stays rooted in place and moves carefully.

But as she feels she's in the clear, she bumps into a podium, and a porcelain vase crashes to the tile. The thieves instantly glances in her direction, and for some reason, Umie stands up.

"There is someone here!" one thief points to her.

The alarms are still blaring, though now fear pulses through Umie's veins as she's been spotted.

Just as suddenly as the thieves spot her, one gets hit in the head with a roll of pennies.

"Hey!" a voice calls.

All three of them look to Nari who stands with a snarl on her face, though Umie can tell she's nervous. Umie quickly glances around and finds a crowbar under the scaffolding. The museum is having renovations done and were prying open crates of supplies today. Rejoiced, Umie quickly dashes for it as Nari keeps their attention.

Without thinking, the moment her hand clasps around the bar, she barrels towards the thieves. One turns around and as Umie goes to swing, he manages to grab the bar, but still grunts in pain. Automatically Umie jabs her foot in his knee while yanking the bar back. His grip fails and this time when she goes to swing at his side, it lands true.

While the thief howls in pain, Umie doesn't think about the other as she grabs the corner of the painting. It's heavier that she thought so the other half drags along the floor. With a harsh yank, she pulls it behind her and hears it bump into the front desk. She doesn't look over her shoulder to Nari, but keeps her eyes forward. She's struggles to see, squinting as the lights are still blaring bright.

"Easy, easy. We didn't mean to scare you." One thief says.

"Bullshit!" Umie cusses. She readies her weapon. "Hands above your head!"

The thief she struck grunts. "Man, you've got some power behind that body of yours."

Umie snarls and keeps her weapon at the ready. As she tries to think of who to strike next, she can't help but think of Nari and where she ran off to.

"Don't come any closer." She warns.

"This'll be a lot easier if you just hand it over." The one thief says, though it didn't so9und threatening or mocking. In fact it seemed to sound, urgent.

"The police are already on their way!" Umie yells.

Finally the unharmed thief runs forward. Umie suppresses a scream and readies her crowbar. She assumes that it'll be a distraction while the other thief grabs the painting, but he seems hurt enough that he can't carry its full weight.

Umie goes to swing for the thief's head, but he blocks it and she goes for a kick in the knee. He expects it and his leg steps back and tries to yank the bar out of Umie's grip. Keeping it locked firmly like a vise, Umie spins inward and rams her elbow into the thief's stomach then jabbing him in the dome; though she wishes she aimed for his nose. When she feels his grip loosen slightly, again she wrenches herself free and gives herself some distance.

The thief holds his head and swears under his breath. Umie goes to whack at his head, but she halts when he rises with a smile on his face. Umie is about to go ballistic thinking it's a mocking smile, but it's, friendly.

"Wow, didn't expect that. You're pretty good."

Umie decided to take a whack at his pride. "You should see me when I'm trying."

"Okay, that's hitting a little bit below the belt don't you think?"

"No, this is!" Umie goes to swing at his groin, but the thief dances back.

Umie can see the other thief lugging the painting away, so she quickly charges forward making her opponent think she's going, and when he dodges, she keeps running towards the one with the painting.

Before she can strike, he already jumps back like something from behind spooks him and nearly plows into Umie. She sidesteps last second and finds Nari with a wooden plank in hand. She and Umie share a smile and Umie quickly goes for the painting.

"Wow, you girls fight almost as well as men." the one thief says. This time Nari can see he has black hair.

"Funny! I was about to say the same thing about you!" she spits.

"Okay, okay, look just give me a chance to apologize." The black-haired thief says he scoots himself back as Nari approaches with the wood plank.

"For stealing?" Umie interrogates.

Suddenly the thief grabs the bar and swipes her feet out from under her. "No, that."

The thief stands on his feet. "You sneaky son-of-a-!"

Umie doesn't even finish as Nari comes hauling in with her plank. Nari lunes at him and knocks the crowbar aside with her plank. His arm follows the movement of his weapon, letting Nari know he allowed her to make the connection. Nari didn't doubt it.

Backing away from her, crossing one left behind the other, the thief let Nari swipe at him again, then easily deflects her advance. Nari lunges again and again, and each time, the thief sent her plank aside with his bar.

The fuse of fury he lit within Nari grows shorter and shorter with each of her rebounded attacks. He is making fun of her. He is doing this on purpose to mock her, trying to make her feel weak and stupid.

Umie sprints for the painting and the other thief now blocks it. He holds up his hands. "Look we're sorry if we scared you."

"Oh, are you always this charming or am I just lucky?" Umie provokes. She tries to clutch at the confidence she had with the crowbar and project that to her current situation. She won't give him the satisfaction of knowing she's less cocky without a weapon.

Nari and the black-haired thief rotate in a circle, still he hasn't struck her. Finally he grits his teeth and easily knocks aside Nari's plank and jabs her in the stomach before kicking her feet out.

"Cute, little girl." He smirks.

Nari, suddenly infuriated roars and chucks her plank at the thief, but it misses and whistles through the air and hits the pulley system suspending the giant whale above the front desk. There's the sound of gears shrieking and a snap of cables.

"Umie!"

Umie looks up and gasps.

The whale descends on her. She should move. She needs to move, but she's immobilized by her fear. Her pulse a war drum in her ear.

"Run!" she hears the thief shout.

Then with a painful lurch of her arm, she finds herself sprinting at full speed with the thief she was facing against. With trembling fingers, she locks her grip on his hand. She doesn't dare look back or up.

She hears the horrifying crunch of the desk as it's mercilessly crushed beneath the weight of the whale. The black-haired thief grabs Nari and leads her in the same direction. The whoosh of the air slams into her spine and Umie can feel her feet fly off the ground.

A scream erupts from her lips as she's a limp projectile.

Tumbling and rolling along the floor, darkness descends upon them.

"Umie . . ."

In the twilight of her dreams, she hears his voice.

"Grandpa?"

She hears the whispers and she goes searching for him. It's a gauzy, violet-tinted world, with no hard edges, and many places to hide. Umie pushes through cloud banks, following faint tracks, catching the scent of peppermint. Once she feels his hand on her cheek and try to trap it in her hand, but it dissolves like mist through her fingers.

There's a faint ringing in her ears.

Umie groans as her eyes open to a plain white wall. Seconds go by before she can see definite edges in her surroundings, the lines of a door frame and countertop and ceiling. She hears the sound of a machine beeping, but it's still muffled as her sense awaken one by one. The lines of white, and the soft halo of sunlight. Umie flicks her eyes around before she tries to move her head, not wanting to bring on a sudden tilt; bringing with it a wave of nausea.

Looking around the room, she sees thin curtains drawn allowing only a slit of light to enter the room. To her left she finds her parents snuggled in waiting chairs. Her mom is resting her head on her father's shoulder, both seemingly dressed in comfy clothes; clothes they'd wear around the house.

Umie wiggles her fingers before she tries to push to a sitting position. She finds himself without her clothes. A rigid hospital gown covers her body under smooth sheets. Hospital bracelets bound her wrists and a wire in her arm connects to an IV that when counted, drips ever five seconds.

"Mom." Umie croaks.

Instantly her mom's eyes flutter open. They widen and she carefully get sup from the seat since she has a bad knee. She wanders over to the bed and smiles through a sob as she gathers Umie in a hug. Umie looks over her mother's shoulder and groggily smiles at her dad. Her mother exchanges her spot so that he can hug her too.

"Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital honey," her mother says cupping her cheek.

Umie tries to remember what had happened. She blinks as a swirl of images shutter through her brain like snapshots in a broken reel of film. Closing her eyes, she tries to find one frame to latch on to, one fleeting symbol or shadow that would trigger the memory of what it was she'd been dreaming about.

But the pictures slide by too quickly, growing dimmer and more uncertain the faster her consciousness swims towards the surface of reality.

Even if she can't recall where she had been or what had been happening, she knows that the dream had not had a chance to end where it should have. There has been something left unsaid. No, she thinks, there has been something left undone. What was it?

Umie sighs. It's no use straining. The thread is broken.

There's a wink of light and Umie looks at an end table to find her amethyst tennis bracelet.

Suddenly the realization hits her like a punch to the stomach.

The museum. Thieves. A painting. Nari.

An ice bomb explodes somewhere in the pit of her stomach, set off by the sudden realization that she was with Nari when the museum was being robbed.

"Narrrri!" her voice scrapes raw from the back of her throat. Umie tosses off her covers, her legs prickling with gooseflesh as she stagger out of bed. There's a harsh tug on her arm, causing her to yelp in pain. A beeping goes off and Umie's head suddenly grows light, like it's been filled with helium.

"Honey! Honey." Her mother coaxes her. "Easy, you have an IV in your arm."

"I've noti-shhed . . ." Umie's words slur and her stomach twists back and forth.

"Honey, honey sit down." Her mother instructs.

A nurse comes trotting into the room and over to the machine. Umie holds onto the padded bed until the room settles into focus. Fighting the nausea keeps her busy as the nurse detaches the wires and bandages her arm. She stays like this for two minutes.

"Here," the nurse says. "Let me get you some water. Are you hungry?"

Umie can feel her stomach be empty, but the nausea tricks her into feeling full, so she shakes her head, but accepts the water. As she drinks, she brushes her hand over the bandages.

She pauses in between sips. "What's the word on the museum? What happened to me? What happened to Nari?" she goads.

Her father goes to get her another cup of water while her mother sits on the bed. She folds her hands in her lap in proper posture.

"After the robbery at the museum, the police found you and Nari just inside the doors. That whale thing had crashed and you were both unconscious." Her mother explains. Umie accepts the new glass of water from her father. "The police brought you both here to inspect for injuries. Nothing major just some head bumps and bruises."

"Okay," Umie sighs. "So where is she now?"

"In a waiting room down the hall. She was the first to regain consciousness."

"And when will I, we be released?" Umie persists.

"Well, that's for the doctor to decide."

Umie looks at the glass in her lap, her eyes widen and she jerks her head up. "What happened to the thieves?! Where's the painting?!"

"Easy, honey." Her mother calms. "Unfortunately, they weren't at the scene when police arrived, and the painting was gone."

Umie scoffs in annoyance. "Fuck." She whispers under her breath.

"Hey, don't talk like that." Her father speaks. "Things could've been worse. You are worth far more than that painting."

Umie smiles. "How long was I out?"

"At least all night. The doctors said there weren't any fatal injuries so they just gave you some painkillers and rehydrated you." Her father says.

Umie relaxes a little more. Her father works as an anesthesiologist at their local hospital, so he at least knows what he's saying.

"The doctors will be here to give you a sort of checkup, so after the results come in we can sign you out." He adds.

"Okay."

One would think that after going through a robbery, one would be entitled to a few days of rest and perhaps recommend a few weeks of therapy, but for some reason, the doctors say that Umie can be up and moving almost immediately. By noon she's dressed in new clothes – courtesy of her mother – and stands in front of the mirror adjusting her hair into a braid. Her loose black V-neck has short sleeves, showing off her impressive bruising and the scar from the IV insert.

Her sneakers clap against the tile as she leads the way off her parents' directions of the waiting room.

She sees Nari sitting along in the far corner of the small room.

Slumped in one of the many greenish-blue upholstered chairs, dressed in yoga pants and one of her rumpled school shirts, Nari sits with her head propped against the wall. She clutches the pink headphones Umie had given her last Christmas between limp hands, and the tiny LCD screen of her ipod glows in one slack fist.

At first sight of her, an inexplicable gush of relief floods through Umie.

The room itself is nondescript, with plain industrial carpeting. Generic landscape paintings hang on smooth turquoise walls. A soda machine hums in the corner. Next to it, a refrigerator stands beside a long countertop, its surface clear and clean except for a large coffeemaker, a bowl of assorted sugar packets, and two stacks of Styrofoam cups.

Umie carefully approaches Nari and taps her shoulder.

"Nari."

Nari's eyes flutter open and they instantly widen at the sight of Umie. "Umie!" she squeals.

Nari gathers her in a hug and a sound escapes her lips. A combination of a laugh, a sob, and hiccup. Umie's own eyes are too blurry to see her, but she feels her when she wraps her arms around her and squeezes so hard it hurts. She smells like Axe cologne and she feels strong. Umie clutches Nari as tightly as she clutches Umie.

Their strength making the other feel stronger.