The storage room was nicer than I thought it would be. We only needed to move things around.

I laid back and my thoughts flooded in.

Why me? Anyone else in my foster home could've been peculiar. Why was I, a normal girl who couldn't fight for anything, chosen by the Ymbrynes?

What is up with the children and Miss Peregrine seeming so old-fashioned? And why does Devil's Acre remind me of those old photos of London from the 1800s?

Before long, I fell asleep looking at the ceiling and wondering what the heck that red stain on the ceiling was.

I awoke to a knocking on the door. I rushed to get out of bed to open it. Millard was standing in a nice outfit, very 1900s.

"Good morning!" I yawned, "Come in! Sit on the bed!"

"No, I just came to tell you it's time for breakfast." He announced

"Thanks Mill." I said, and smiled in his direction. "I think I'm going to like it here."

Breakfast was eggs and salted pork. There wasn't that much of a variety, but there was a lot of it!

"G Morning everyone." I remarked

"Morning Maya!" Olive said. She was obviously a morning person, like me.

"Where's Miss P?"

"Off in some ymbryne meeting." Horace wasn't eating the eggs or the salted pork. He was eating toast with a bit of jam on it.

"Are you vegetarian or something?" I asked, already getting my plate to pile food on.

"No, he thinks he'll get fat if he eats anything more than that every morning." Hugh said, laughing.

"I do not!" Horace said. "I'm just more sophisticated in my eating habits!"

"Alright, Mr. Sophisticated Eating Habits, do you know when she'll be back."

"Noon." He said, still sulking.

"Is there a library, or just books I can read about peculiarity? I want to learn as much as possible about this world." I asserted

"I have some. You can borrow them." Millard said, "I can help you understand the language of old Peculiar."

"Thank you." I ate quickly. I wanted to read up about this.

Millard and I went down to the library, and he brought out a giant book called Tales of the Peculiar.

"A book of tales, like my own?" I asked.

"These are stories handed down from generation to generation." He said proudly, "I have annotated this copy."

"Well, that will help." We sat at the writing table, and he pointed out key features of the stories as I took notes.

Soon enough, I learned all about the peculiar stories. We finished the book, and he set it down.

"Millard?" Something was bugging me and had for a while, ever since I met these children.

"What?"

"What do you look like?" I asked.

"I'm not sure." He said slowly, "I haven't seen myself in a long time."

"I got an idea." I said and pulled out a Sketchbook from my backpack. "There was this girl from the foster home, she was blind, and she asked each of us if she could feel our faces. Then she sketched out what we looked like. She taught me to do the same."

I felt Millard's face, starting with his hair. It was soft, and I could tell he hadn't combed it in a while. I sketched it out and moved on to his face.

"Close your eyes." I said and felt them. They were wide. His nose was small, and a little bent up. After, I sketched his lips. His top lip was slightly smaller than the bottom. His chin was not exactly cleft, but had a small indentation, like a scar.

"What did you do here?" I wanted to know.

"A bullet grazed my face," he said without emotion.

"You and your friends are crazy, Mill." I said, shaking my head at the thought of them fighting villains like superheroes on TV.

"We saved Peculiarity," He boasted

"Up until now, I haven't even known that existed." I said and smoothed the edges of the picture. It was beautiful. If I could trust my drawing, Millard was a handsome guy.

"MILLARD AND AMAYA SITTING IN A TREE, Y-M-B-R-Y-N-E!" Enoch sang.

"Thank you, Enoch, for teaching me how to spell ymbryne." I said, rolling my eyes. "And that doesn't even make sense."

"Yes, it does." He affirmed "That's who will chew you out if they find you there!"

"Oh, go play with a dead animal."

"I came to tell you that Miss Peregrine wants you." He said.

"Oh, I wanted to ask her more about this." I smiled at the headless suit of clothes, "See you later."

"See you at dinner, Amaya." He said.

"Miss Barista, you may take a seat." Miss Peregrine said, then gestured to two women standing next to her. "This is Miss Avocet, as well as Miss Wren."

"What type of bird is an avocet?" I asked, sitting in the chair provided.

"It is like a sandpiper." Miss Avocet explained.

"Do you know why I have called you here, Miss Barista?" Miss Peregrine questioned.

"Nope." I said, and fiddled with the cushion of the chair. I hated being in the spotlight. It reminded me of when people came to "check out" me. Often they would leave, saying they would "think about it", then never come back.

"We need to discuss an important matter." Miss Wren said. "Do you know if you have a… talent? A peculiarity?"

"I don't think so. I mean, I didn't exactly wake up in the morning spouting fire or anything." I said, and sunk into the chair. Because I said that they were probably going to kick me out now. Oh, well.

"Well, only the peculiar species can enter a loop."

"Wait, so you are saying… " I said, trying to process.

Miss Peregrine nodded. "You, my dear, are peculiar."