Marguerite sulked all the way to the crash site. She'd heard what Challenger had said: it was unlikely that anyone had survived the crash. She would much rather be off exploring the newly-discovered, gem-filled cave. She fingered her latest discovery, a blood-red ruby which she wore dangling from her neck on a cord. It caught the sun and gleamed.
Roxton, who was directly in front of her, stopped short, causing her to run into him. He reached out a hand to steady her as the others stopped around them, silent. She looked around Roxton and gasped. There was a large plane on the forest floor. It had suffered a lot of damage during it's fall. The wings were twisted and bent, the back end almost entirely gone. As they began to look around for survivors, Roxton got the impression that they wouldn't be finding anyone alive. He headed over to see if the other's were having any luck when he heard Marguerite call him. He hurried over to her and looked at her, "What is it?" "I think it was the pilot." Marguerite informed him. She pointed to a man dressed in blue, laying facedown on the ground. She bent down and brushed aside some leaves, then jerked away. She stood up and backed away, straight into Roxton's arms. She turned her pale face away, and he asked, "What's wrong? What's there?" She turned to look at him, visibly shaken, "John, it's a-" she paused, trying not to gag at remembrance of the gruesome scene. "It's a baby." They had witnessed many disturbing things on the plateau, but for all the things she'd seen none had prepared her for this.
Roxton sighed at the lost life, standing for a moment in silence with her in his arms. Then took the unusually quiet Marguerite by the arm and led her back to the others. When they had told what they'd found, the others looked saddened, but Challenger responded that they, too, hadn't found any survivors.
Suddenly Veronica glanced towards the plane, "Did anyone check the plane?" she questioned. None of them had, so they approached it as a group. The other's hung back as Roxton peered inside the blood-spattered wreckage, looking for anything that would hint that there had been survivors. What he found was not what he'd expected. Huddled in the farthest corner of the aircraft, near where the back had been torn away, was a child. The young girl, who couldn't be any older then three, watched him with deep brown eyes as he cautiously stepped inside the plane. Her long, curly brown hair made him think of Marguerite. She looked frightened, but he smiled and coaxed, "It's all right. We won't hurt you." She crawled towards him, and when she was within reach he reached over and picked her up. He made his way out of the plane and once out he called the others over. Veronica approached him first, and seeing the child, stopped short. She looked surprised, and the other's had similar reactions. "Well, what do we have here?" Challenger inquired, "Why would a child this young be riding in an airplane without her parents?" Roxton attempted to set the girl down, but she was having none of it. She clung to him desperately. Malone laughed, "It looks like you've got an admirer, Roxton." The others laughed, but Marguerite asked the question that was on all of their minds, "What are we supposed to do with her?" There was a barely perceptible pause before Veronica responded, "Well, we can't just leave her here. We'll take her back to the treehouse with us. Then, when you all find a way off the plateau, you can find her parents." The child suddenly turned in Roxton's arms to face them. While she stared at them, Marguerite noticed some letters on the girl's plain brown sweater, "No. She doesn't have any parents. She's an orphan." Malone looked at her strangely, "How could you possibly know that?" Looking intently at the sweater, she informed, "The letters on the sweater. CCO. Christian Children's Orphanage. They sew the letters on the sweater so if the child gets lost then whoever finds them will know where they belong."

Veronica, anxious to get back to the treehouse before nightfall, spurred them on, "We've got to head back, it's going to be dark soon." Challenger agreed, and took Roxton's place at the lead, as he wouldn't be able to carry his gun and the child. Veronica brought up the rear, and it didn't take long to reach the treehouse. The child had fallen asleep somewhere along the way.
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The sunlight bathed the treehouse in a soft yellow glow, and the birds' song filled the air. Veronica, Malone, and Roxton were sitting at the table, eating breakfast, Challenger was in his lab, and Marguerite was still asleep. Those in the main room were slightly startled to see the young child they'll found suddenly appear next to Roxton. She stood on tip-toes and wrapped her little finger's around the edge of the table, trying to see what was on it. She looked at Roxton and grinned elfishly. The man couldn't help but laugh, and the other's looked at him strangely, not seeing her face over the table. The child turned her head and say Challenger's, seat at the head of the table. Darting under the table, she walked to the large chair and climbed up onto it. Sitting on her knee's, she placed her hands on the table and stared at them, grinning devilishly. The three people watched her, before Ned asked, "Do you think she's old enough to understand what we say?" Veronica replied, "She must be at least two or three years old, so shouldn't she?" They looked at each other and Roxton nodded, "I should hope so. Ask her something." Veronica looked at the child, who looked back at her, and greeted, "Hi…uh…can you tell me your name?" The child just stared at her, gaze unwavering, then grinned again. "What about you age, honey? How old are you?" The child's clear blue eyes seemed to mock the young women, and still she refused to answer. "Maybe she's hungry." Malone suggested. Roxton agreed, "Good thinking, Malone." Veronica grabbed a piece of fruit, then as an afterthought, grabbed a knife and cut it into pieces. She put them on a plate in front of the girl and sat back down. The child looked at it, then at Roxton, and her smile turned evil as she picked up a piece of the fruit and ate it quickly. Reaching for another, she suddenly dropped her hand and climbed down from the chair, darting out of the room and onto the balcony. The adults quickly stood up and approached her, afraid she would fall. The girl looked down and suddenly ran between Veronica and Roxton, heading for the stairs. Descending, she entered Marguerite's room and saw the heiress sound asleep.

Before the other's got there, she'd already climbed up onto the bed and sat on the edge. All of a sudden they heard Marguerite scream, and they rushed in. Marguerite sat on the bed, glaring at the girl, who sat at the end of it. The girl laughed and then looked at Marguerite intensely. The others looked on in surprise as the girl moved closer to the raven-haired women, who looked at her as if she were a plague. "What? What do you want?" she asked, annoyed. "She just wants some of your attention, Marguerite. Surely even you can't deny her that." Veronica stated angrily, irritated at the older woman's apparent disdain. The child looked over at Veronica, her little face set in a frown. Veronica unknowingly took a step back, and nearly fell over, tripping on one of Marguerite's boots. Malone caught her arm and helped steady her. When they looked back over at the child, she was sitting beside Marguerite, frown replaced by awe. Marguerite was eyeing her with obvious caution, wary of the small child and what it might do. To everyone's amazement, the child innocently addressed Marguerite as, "Mummy."
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Marguerite's head turned sharply to look at the child, her eyes shocked and furious. The other's were speechless, but she stated in a firm, tight voice, "No. Not Mummy. I am not your mother." The girl looked at her, eyes flashing angrily. The childish face twisted in rage, and she stubbornly asserted, "Mummy!" The others stood by and watched the exchange, unsure of what either would do. The child put her hand on Marguerite's arm, as if challenging her. Marguerite pulled her arm away roughly, "No! You are not my daughter." She looked straight into the child's dark, knowing eyes. Her anger started to melt away as the girl nodded, her face showing fear, "Mummy." She took Marguerite's hand and put it on her own dark curls. "Marietta", she tried to remind the woman. She looked afraid and let go of her hand. Marguerite retracted her hand but didn't respond. She was aware that the other's were watching, and it made her wary. The girl, however, gave her a small, teasing half smile. The child knew that something had changed in the heiress. She climbed onto Marguerite's lap, much to her surprise. She didn't object, though, she was too shocked to. The child shifted to look at Roxton, giggled, and grinned knowingly. She pointed at him and told Marguerite, "Daddy." Everyone's eyes widened at the girl's apparent choice of substitute parent's. Roxton looked surprised, but pleased. He grinned at Marguerite, who glared at him. Malone and Veronica laughed, and Roxton replied, "Well, if you say so, Marietta." Marguerite cut in, "If you all are done, maybe you could leave? Seeing as I'm not even dressed yet!" The other's stifled their laughter and filed out of her room. She looked down at the girl in her lag. 'Marietta', Marguerite remembered. She knew Marietta wasn't her daughter, she couldn't be; and yet something about her. She was different, special. And her eyes…Marguerite could swear she'd seen those eyes before. It seemed like she knew this child, whom she'd never met previously. Marietta looked up at her and smiled softly, then nodded, as if she knew Marguerite's thoughts, and was confirming them.

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A.N.- okay, so this is my first Lost World story i've posted, so be honest with your reviews! Hate it or love it or totally bored by it, tell me! Thanks for reading and please review!