Raven

Ms. Kinders and her guest, lead me to what used to be Mrs. Huntington's office. Even though she's not coming back, nothing has changed. The painting is still on the wall, the knickknacks have collected dust, the desk has been used, but its pen holder, computer, everything remains where she had it. Mrs. Kinders goes to the other side of the desk and her guest takes one of the two chairs in front of it next to me.

"We have a bit of a problem," Ms. Kinders says. "It appears your file is missing, as is all your paperwork." What file? And what type of paperwork?

"There isn't any documentation for you." The uniformed woman says. I want to pretend she's not here, since she's a stranger. I don't think she's one of his followers, but nothing good will probably come from talking to her.

"Did Mrs. Huntington ever tell you she put your file in a special place?" Mrs. Kinders asks. I shake my head. I still don't quite understand what she means by file, but if it's something that has documentation of me, I probably never had one. The whole point of me being here is that no one is supposed to know I'm here or who I am. Mrs. Huntington was cautious and she followed the rules. She knew she was going to die at the charity ball and she stilled followed the rules. There's no way she would risk keeping anything about me written down where his followers could snoop and find it.

"Can you give us some basic information, so we can try to get replacement documents?" The stranger asks.

"Who are you?" I raise an eyebrow. She smiles, but she's not happy. If anything, I sense she's annoyed, but why should I tell her anything? I don't know her.

"My apologies, I've been so rude. My name is Mrs. Green. I'm helping get all the paperwork in order here after what happened." What does that even mean? What is there to get in order? "Can you tell us your birthday?" I think about that and frown. Not really. The calendar in Azareth is different. I wouldn't know what day it is here. I shake my head. They're surprised.

"You don't know what day you were born or what year?" Ms. Kinders asks again. I shake my head. They stare at each other for a minute.

"Season?" Mrs. Green asks. I shake my head. "What about social security number? Parents names? What can you tell us, so we can find your paperwork."

"What's a social security number?" I ask. Mrs. Kinders rubs the side of her head the way adults do when they say they have a headache.

"What were your parents' names?" I definitely will not be answering that.

"Mom and Dad?" I shrug. They're getting upset.

"Before here, where were you? Another facility? With your parents?" I can't say I don't remember that, it won't be believable, but if I say with my parents, they'll ask where they are...

"A school." It's not the worst lie. I'm ahead of the other kids my grade in reading and math, a school would make sense.

"What was it called and where was it?" Mrs. Green asks. Needs to be something common...

"George Washington School... It was a long way away from here. It took a long time to get here." They both look at each other and I can see their frustrating mounting.

"What else do you remember?" Ugh... How long is this going to go on? The lights flicker and Ms. Kinders stand up.

"I think that's enough for now. We'll probably have more questions later. You may go do your chores." Mrs. Green is stunned, she probably doesn't realize I was the one who accidently flickered the lights. Mrs. Kinders goes around the desk and opens the office door. She looks at the windows and I sense relief. Oh... So, she's worried I'll break things again. That's useful. I don't want to show them my powers, but I also can't answer their questions. Maybe she'll leave me alone for a while.

My chores this week are to wipe down the classrooms with disinfectant. Three kids have the flu and they don't want it to spread. I get the big container of it from the kitchen and start with the youngest kids' classroom and then mine. Mr. West is still here. He gives me a smile, but I look away and do what I'm here to do.

"I've just gotten through the essays and I noticed you didn't write anything. Not even your name." I ignore him and keep wiping the tables down. "If you don't want to write about yourself, you could write about a book you really like or your favorite justice league hero." I keep wiping the desks, moving towards the back of the room so he'll take a hint. "Try to finish it by tomorrow please." I catch him look back down at the papers on his desk. Despite the fact that I didn't do what he asked and ignored him, he's not mad. That's weird. Most adults would be angry if one of us ignored them like that. The desks are all I need to wipe in this room, so I work as fast as possible and get out.

Garfield and Richard have harder chores. This week they're helping James with odd jobs. Yesterday they helped him fix a couple holes in the wall of the boy's room. Garfield bugged Richard about it about a thousand times, but he wouldn't tell us who did it and why. Punishments haven't been doled out since the charity ball, so there's no telling who it was or what happened.

When I get to the library they're not here. I don't want to listen to Mr. West and do his assignment, but I also know that not doing what everyone else does draws more attention to me. There's something about Mr. West that I don't trust. He doesn't seem like a bad guy, there's nothing like him about him, but still... There had been twelve example questions on the board. Eight were harmless. Four were not. The question about magic was really concerning...

I get out a sheet of paper and write two pages about Dr. Jane Goodall. Strickly facts Garfield has been spewing about her for the last few days since finding a video online of her working with animals in a sanctuary. There. Now he can't say I didn't do it.

The boys come in shortly after. They look worn out.

"So what did Ms. Kinders and that lady want?" Garfield asks.

"Hello to you too," he rolls his eyes.

"We just saw each other like an hour ago." He takes his seat and props his feet up on the table, which is gross and annoying. No one wants to look at, or smell his dirty socks.

"Is this another thing we're not allowed to know?" Richard asks on his way to our hiding spot. He grabs his laptop and sits down next to Garfield.

"They said my file is missing, but I didn't really understand. Something about needing to track down my paperwork." The boys look at each other and frown. "What?"

"That's weird." Richard says. "How can your file just go missing?" It didn't. There probably never was one.

"Why did they need it anyway?" Garfield asks. Richard shrugs.

"This place was privately funded by Mrs. Huntington, but now that she's dead maybe they won't be able to keep it open. Her family might not want to keep putting their money in here." Those words are like a block of cement to Garfield, pulling him under an ocean of panic.

"What's going to happen to us?" he asks.

"Nothing good," Richard sighs. I kick him under the table. "Ow." He gives me a dirty look, but I glare right back. Even if that's true, there's no reason he has to say it like that, like there's no hope.

"The Dayton's are interested in you. You won't have to worry about going to another place like this." The reminder helps Garfield for a minute, but only a minute.

"...I want to stay together." Garfield says.

"I wouldn't have guessed." I kick Richard under the table again, because now is not the time to be a jerk. "We all want to stay together, right?" he looks at me.

"Of course," I agree. The thought of this place closing makes my stomach hurt. If Richard is right, what will happen to me? Azar isn't coming to save me. She never wanted me in the first place, so she's not coming either. I have to protect myself.

"What if I can convince the Dayton's to take all of us?" Garfield asks.

"Don't ruin your chance," I argue. Now he gives me a dirty look. "Wherever we go, we'll find a way to stay in touch."

"Yeah. It's not worth risking your shot with them. We won't be happy if you're not happy." Good, I don't have to kick him again. "There's this thing called a phone. You can keep in touch with people anywhere in the world." Garfield doesn't like that answer much either, but he finally gives in and gives a half-smile.

"Let's not worry about things that haven't happened yet." The words are hypocrisy. I worry everyday about something that hasn't happened yet, but that doesn't mean they have to.

"Yeah, it was the rich people's fault those guys targeted the ball. They weren't there to steal kids, just jewelry and wallets. Maybe they'll donate money and we can stay here. Maybe the Dayton's will say green isn't their favorite color." I try to kick Richard again, but this time he moves his leg and gives me a triumphant look. Garfield just rolls his eyes and smiles.