Charlotte

***

"That'll be your room in there. Let me know if you need anything?"

She nodded, standing in the middle of the room shyly. Sammy jumped straight onto the bed and stood there, wagging his tail watchfully, daring her to tell him off or join him. I left them to go check the fridge.

"You like ham? We could have ham sandwiches for lunch," I asked, but there was no reply, "Either that or peanut butter. Otherwise we'll have to go the shops…"

She was standing in the middle of the room, exactly where I'd left her, gazing around, wide eyed and quiet. Ok, no shops today, I thought. This was obviously overwhelming enough. I tried to look at the room as she would see it. A single bed, a sedate adult sheet set, but livened up with some soft toys. A bookcase filled with my old ratty childhood favourites, some toys, a jar of textas, an ipod and speakers. A desk and a bedside table, matching lamps, a chair. A wardrobe, straight out of Narnia. A window with curtains tied to the side. A woven rug covering the floorboards. Nothing scary that I could see. Certainly a lot homier than the ward. Was it too different? Surely not after only a week.

"You alright?" I asked gently.

"This is my room?" she whispered.

"Uh huh."

She looked around some more, her gaze resting on each thing, like she'd never seen them before.

"My room's up here," I offered, leading the way. She poked her head in the door, taking in the queen bed, clothes thrown over the reading chair, paintings on the walls, fireplace, mantelpiece covered in trash and treasure.

"You stay here a lot?" she asked.

"Well… every night," I replied, puzzled, "and I've lived here since I was implanted." Was it strange to her to stay in the one place for so long?

She backed away slowly, shifting her gaze to the corridor.

"Does Sammy sleep with you?" she asked softly.

"Sammy sleeps where he wants. I daresay he'll sleep with you."

A small smile escaped her lips.

I settled on the lounge with a book and some music, and let her explore the rest of the house at her own pace. She walked absolutely silently, only the click of Sammy's nails following her on the floorboards signaling her slow progress. She spent a long time gazing at the bathroom, and I had a presentiment of trouble in that direction when it came to bath time tonight.

Sure enough, when the time came, she stood uncertainly right in the middle of the room. I was coming to recognize it as her favourite position in any new room. You could keep an eye on everything that way.

"Do you want a bath or a shower?" I prompted, keeping my tone light.

"A bath," she said after an age. I ran the taps for her and decided against bubble bath tonight. I just couldn't tell with her, the smallest things seemed to completely overwhelm her. But I couldn't piece together rhyme or reason to her reactions.

The bath filled, she just continued to stand there, looking at it.

"I can swim," she said, as if convincing herself as well as me, "Daddy taught me."

"Well, that's great," I said, bemused, "But you don't need to swim. It's not that deep." I considered my bath afresh. Was it really that big? Maybe it looked big to a small child. How big was her bath?

She climbed in carefully, not bothering to take her clothes off first.

"Oooh, it's so warm," she chuckled, her eyes shining with delight. I handed her the soap and she took it gently, then held it to her nose, smelling it lengthily.

"No good? I've got another one…"

She shook her head instantly, keeping her nose pressed to the bar. I took it that she liked that one.

I left her to it, scrounging around for a t-shirt she could wear to bed that wouldn't fall off her. When she came out of the bathroom, it hung precariously on the tips of her shoulders, just waiting for Sammy to brush pass for it to slip. I squashed my amusement and followed her to her room to tuck her in.

"Charlotte?"

"Mm hmm?"

"Do I have to go back on Monday?"

"No, not if you don't want to."

"Daddy said I shouldn't go there. I didn't want to go there but they made me."

"Oh honey. They just wanted to keep you safe."

She stared at her intertwined fingers.

"Daddy said they wouldn't give me back," she breathed, so quiet I almost missed it. I rubbed her arm.

"Little girls belong with their Daddies," I whispered, smiling confidently at her. She returned a small, hopeful smile.

"Don't worry, we'll find him," I said, kissing her head. She smile vanished and she curled up tight in the bed, tensed. I sat with her for a moment, but she didn't relax, so I rubbed her arm once more and let her be, turning off the room light and leaving on the night light.

Daddy was definitely human then, I thought as I pulled her carefully wrung out clothes off the towel rail and threw them in the drier. Daddy was afraid the Souls would take his daughter; Souls wouldn't be afraid of that.

I heard a thump and creak as Sammy must have jumped onto the bed. I pictured him curling up to her, back to back, two quiet lives taking comfort from each other, and went to finish my book.