Mrs. Reinfield sat at her kitchen table deep in thought, hand absentmindedly poking at her nearly untouched dinner. Normally she could separate herself from her patients and leave her work at the office, but tonight her mind was plagued by one of her clients in particular. A young girl and her adoptive mother. She had been seeing them for nearly two months now, but she was no closer to understanding the workings of the young child's mind than she had been on the day they first met.

On the one hand, her short temper and emotional immaturity were on par with a typical child her age, despite what her mother perceived as irregular behavior. Children her age talked back and had meltdowns when they were stressed or didn't get their way, but on the other hand, every once in a while, she got a quick glimpse of what the mother had been referring to as her "previous self" and it often left her speechless for a moment. Her insight of the world was uncanny. And when the girl looked at you, she didn't merely look at-but into you.

Then of course, there was the obvious.

A six year old with the power to move objects with her mind. A power so strong, if the mother was to be believed and Mrs. Reinfield was discovering very quickly she could, she had the ability to shake the foundation of a building when upset. It was no wonder why the mother was so desperate to get the bottom of this.

"Is everything okay, Helen?" her husband asked.

"Yes, sorry, a lot on my mind."

"Want to talk about it?"

Helen smiled. Her husband, Eric, was a bank manager. Child psychology was clearly not his forte, but she decided to humor him anyway. Maybe she was looking at this wrong.

"I've got an unusual client."

"Unusual how?"

"It's difficult to explain. It's a very young girl, and yet, she isn't."

"Umm, I'm going to need a bit more to go on than that."

"Let's say, hypothetically, she could do something extraordinary, like move things with her mind."

"Okay, obviously not a real client. Are you thinking of writing again? Is this the main character?"

"Yes," Helen said. She had written several young adult novels over the years, but it had been quite a while since she had picked up a pen. "But I'm having trouble with the characters' motivations. The little girl is very smart, like genius level IQ, but lately, she has been doing some very dumb things, like telling obvious lies and levitating objects in front of strangers when she knows she needs to keep it a secret. Why would she do that?"

"For attention?" Eric said with a shrug.

"It was my original thought too, but the more I ta- the more I flesh out the character, the more I'm discovering she isn't the attention seeking type." If she was looking for attention, why did she shut down the moment she got what she wanted? Most little girls loved talking about themselves, but not this one. Sure, she'd talk about her favorite authors, foods, things that happened during the day, but the moment Helen tried to dig past the surface, she'd freeze. "I think there's some other reason."

"Have you given her a back story yet? Maybe if you focus on her past the present will make more sense." Helen froze, spoonful of food halfway to her mouth.

"Her biological family neglected her so her primary school teacher adopted her."

"You YA authors sure love your tragic backstories. Why can't you give kids happy childhoods? People can still be messed up without villain backstories."

"If you think that's bad, you should hear the teachers." Helen stopped. She had been assuming something horrible had been going on at the daycare. She had a thought, but it was difficult to imagine a young child feeling these things. With Matilda though, it was very hard to picture what must be going through her head. Helen couldn't make assumptions based on her age. "What if she thought the problem was too minor and was just too ashamed to admit that that was what was bothering her? Or she just didn't recognize it?"

Eric shrugged. "It's your character."

Jennifer let her head fall into her hands. She had been in the middle of preparing the order sheet for the new schools text books when the phone rang. It was the daycare wanting her to collect Matilda. She had been caught defacing the property…again.

"What is going on?" Jennifer groaned.

Her heart dropped when she walked into the lobby. There was Matilda, covered head to toe in paint and doing everything she could to avoid meeting her eyes.

"What happened?" Jennifer asked. She was afraid to find out. An angry looking woman led her into a back room. Jennifer's stomach clenched. "Why?" Was all she could manage to get out.

….

"Matilda, please put the marbles away. We aren't playing games today." Mrs. Reinfield said. "Sit on the couch. It's time we talked."

Matilda remained silent, but sat on the couch.

"Why did you smear paint on the walls? And don't try to say it wasn't you; you're smarter than that. You were covered head to toe in it."

Matilda shrugged.

"No more shrugging. I need you to answer me." They both sat in silence. "It's not fair for the person who has to clean up." There, Helen thought, in her eyes, there was a sudden flash of anger. "The janitor didn't deserve it."

"He's off on Tuesdays." Matilda said before she could stop herself. Helen raised an eyebrow, but Matilda volunteered no more. Curious, she flipped open Maitlda's chart. "So you're saying you wouldn't have done it if he was there?" No answer. Helen eyed Matilda's rap sheet. Smeared fecal matter on walls. July 12. Destroyed art supplies. July 17. Broke window on the 24th. Finger painted the classroom on the 31st. They were all on Tuesdays. Interesting.

"Matilda, who's in charge of cleaning up on Teusdays?" Silence. "If you don't tell me, I'll just have your mom find out."

"Some guy." Matilda mumbled. Helen eyed her. Her body had gone rigid, and her fists were clenched at her sides.

"And does this guy have a name?" Matilda mumbled something. "What was that?"

"I don't know." she mumbled back.

"I think you do."

"It doesn't matter."

"I think it does. I think it matters quite a lot." More Silence. "Matilda, did you plan to do these things ahead of time so this person would have to clean it up?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Yes, Matilda, we need to talk about it. Is this the person that's been bullying you?"

"No." Matilda said, "He has nothing to do with anything." But the tears told Helen a different story.

"I never noticed." Jennifer said in shock. She started doing the math in her head. "It is all on Teusdays."

"I think it has something to do with someone who works there."

"Do you think they were hurting her?" Jennifer said, sounding worried. "Cause I'll give them a piece of my mind, child or not."

"I don't know the story, she refuses to tell me. Maybe her friends know."

….

"Did she know anything?" Carol asked.

"Not a thing." Jennifer let out a frustrated sigh. "It was too much to put my hopes in a six year old. Lavender said she didn't even notice Matilda had been acting differently, but it turns out they aren't playing much together anyway. "

"Maybe someone a little older and more observant could help." Carol suggested.

"No."

"If someone's giving her problems, she'd scare the shit out of anyone."

"No." Jennifer said again. She crumbled up their empty fast food wrappers. She sat silently for a moment and stared off into the distance at the play structure she had sent Matilda off into so she and Carol could talk.

"What about the daycare? Did you find out who works there on Tuesdays?"

"They gave me a complete run around when I tried to ask."

"They probably thought you were accusing them of something."

"Yeah probably." Jennifer said with a sigh. "She's so angry all the time. The psychologist wants to send her to a psychiatrist to be put on mood stabilizers and I don't think I'm comfortable with that. She's only six."

"Is there a reason you can't pull her out? If you think the daycare's the problem…" Jennifer leaned over and whispered a figure into her ear. "Jen! You could have bought her a fricken pony for that!"

"Yeah well, I'm starting to wish I HAD bought her a pony instead."

"You spent that much to keep her away from Hortensia?"

"It's not only about Hortensia. I didn't want her to be cooped up all summer while I worked at the school, and one of her school friends was going there. She really liked it at first, then it was like overnight she refused to get in the car. We had been arguing more, so I thought she was just trying to get under my skin."

"Well, maybe if she keeps this up, they'll give you your money back just to get rid of her." Carol said half jokingly."

"I was starting to think she was misbehaving to get herself kicked out, but now that the psychologist discovered she seems to be causing trouble on a specific day of the week, I just don't know. I've tried asking her if there's someone there she doesn't like, but everytime I bring it up, she just walls herself off. I'm not sure which is more worrisome, her losing her temper or knowing her actions are calculated."

"Well, looks like this is where I come in." Carol said with a mischievous smile. Jennifer knitted her eyebrows in confusion. "Someone needs to go see what's going on down there and I have too much free time on my hands during the summer."

"No, Carol, I couldn't ask you to do that. You've already done so much for us."

"You need a spy. It's me or Hortensia. Personally, I think she'd open up more to Hortensia, but-"

"She really doesn't like that girl." Carol said under her breath on Tuesday morning as she stood under the awning of Clear View Academics Center. It was a large three story brick building directly in the heart of the wealthier end of town that lacked the prison esque feel of Crunchem Hall. She had gotten a quick tour the other day when she had offered to volunteer a few days of the week, all it had taken was a little white lie. They were weary of letting in strangers, until she had said she was Matilda's grandmother here to help keep her in line. They seemed quite fond of her after that.

It hadn't taken Carol long at all to see why Jennifer had shelled out the money for this place. Compared to Crunchem Hall, it was a kids paradise. There was a computer lab, a library, hell it even had a makeshift movie theater. Now why on earth did Matilda hate it so much? She was more curious than ever now.

"Mrs. Rodgers! Good morning! We can't tell you how happy we are to have you join our family!" A middle aged man said, offering his hand. He wore glasses and a green polo shirt tucked into Khaki pants. Carol shook his offered hand, inwardly flinching at the logo on his shirt, belt buckle and glasses. His outfit must have cost him her whole months salary. And it wasn't just him, the entire office staff seemed to be dressed in similar designer clothes. By the time she was introduced to the third and final staff member of the office, she felt wildly underdressed. The only other person who did not appear to have stepped out of a Prada and Versace Summer line up was a pudgy looking teenage boy in a t- shirt and denim shorts making copies in the corner.

Carol's smile faltered for a moment. The stack of paper next to him looked to be over a foot high. She hoped they wouldn't be putting her to work in the office. It was Matilda and the other children she wanted to observe.

"Go bring pallet of water from the storage and stock the fridge in the break room. It's going to be another scorcher." A woman said without looking up. Carol was unsure who she was speaking to, but the boy grunted, and quickly left, seemingly happy to get away from the mundane task he had been previously given. "And don't take an hour this time! I better see you back at that copier in fifteen minutes!" Carol caught a glimpse of him rolling his eyes before disappearing around the corner.

Carol breathed a sigh of relief when she was led into one of the other rooms with children. The adults present seemed to be much more reasonably dressed than the eye candy out front. She glanced over the many little heads and spotted Matilda tucked away in a corner by herself. Carol frowned. She would have expected her to have her head in a book, but she just sat there, scanning the room from side to side. Their eyes met, and a bit of life shone in them. She stood and hurried towards them.

"Are you here to pick me up, Mrs. Rodgers?" Matilda asked hopefully.

"No silly, you just got here." Carol said, before leaning down. "And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Grandma."

"Grandma?" Matilda asked puzzled. Carol winked conspiratorially before giving her a hug.

"I may have fudged a detail or two so I could come work here for the day." Carol whispered.

"Why would you want to work here?" Matilda asked, face wrinkled in disgust.

"Two words, kid. Air Conditioning."

It hadn't taken long for Carol to notice one of Matilda's complaints to ring incredibly true. The place was full of snobs. These kids, and even adults, seemed to come from completely different worlds.

"I went to Milan with my parents." A girl no older than eight said after Carol had asked how she was enjoying summer break.

"Oh how neat, I love that movie." Carol said. The girl frowned in confusion.

"Milan, not Mulan, you know, Italy." She said, as if Carol was somehow mentally slow. "I wanted to go to Rome though. My parents said maybe for my birthday. They did get me this though while we were there." She showed Carol a gold colored heart shaped locket hanging around her neck."

"Wow, that's very beautiful, wait, is this real gold?"

"Yes," The girl said, drawing out every letter, as if to say, "What else would it be?"

"Are you sure you want to wear that here? What if it gets lost?" The girl shrugged and walked away, leaving Carol feeling dumbfounded. She tried to make eye contact with Matilda as a way of asking, "Is this place for real?" but Matilda wasn't paying attention. Her eyes were trained on the door.

"Hey," Carol said, coming to stand next to the only familiar face. Matilda seemed to nearly jump out of her skin. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Are you waiting for someone? You keep looking at the door."

"No." Matilda said.

"Honey, are you okay? You look exhausted. You've got dark circles under your eyes. Are you sleeping okay?" Matilda merely shrugged. "Do you want to lay down?"

"No!" she said more forcefully than Carol had ever heard her speak. "I'm fine." she quietly added.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you without your nose in a book. Have you seen the library in this place?"

"Yeah, it's big." Matilda said half-heartedly.

"So…" Carol said. "I thought you'd be all over that."

"I don't feel like reading."

"Don't feel like reading?!" Carol said in exaggerated shock. She placed a hand over her heart. "Who are you and what have you done with Matilda?"

Around noon Mrs. Rodgers led the room out to the playground and baseball field. Her jaw nearly dropped. It was massive! It put Crunchem Hall's sad, little metal contraption the kids called a jungle gym to shame. There were swings, slides, bikes, tricycles, scooters, a tennis court, a baseball field, and even a swimming pool that offered swimming lessons Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. But then she noticed something that made her do a double take. Along the baseball field's metal fence were the banners of sponsors, various fast food establishments and local businesses, but the largest and gaudiest of them all read Wormwood Motors. Carol frowned. It looked much newer than all the other sun bleached signs, but it was covered in holes and dirt . She wondered who could have possibly been responsible. She had to hide the smirk on her face.

Curious, she approached one of the other female workers who was helping a boy across the monkey bars.

"Just out of curiosity, what does Wormwood Motors have to do with this place? Is it really a sponsor? I've heard some rumors he's not the most reputable business owner in town."

"Oh, him." The woman rolled her eyes before leaning in conspiratorially. "You want the dirt?"

"Yes please." Carol said with a grin.

"He didn't have a choice. His son and his friends were caught breaking in and trying to steal the computers. He made a huge donation to keep them from pressing charges."

"Oohhh." Carol said.

"Yeah, and they're making him work here during the summer to pay restitution."

"Wait, he's here?" Carol said with a frown.

"Yeah, "

"And they wouldn't happen to make him clean the buildings on Teusdays when the janitor is gone, would they?" Carol made eye contact with a little face sticking out from one of the towers. "Come down, Matilda." The face disappeared. "Don't make me come up there." Carol waited a moment before sighing. "Alright, I'm coming up." She groaned and forced herself up the rings, before hoisting herself up onto the platform. "I'm too old for this." She muttered before finally getting her bearings. "You kids make that look so easy." She huffed. She approached the figure who sat huddled in the corner with her head buried in her knees.

"So," Carol said as she slowly lowered herself down beside the girl. "Your brothers here." She waited patiently for a response, but none came. "Is that what this is all about?"

"Leave me alone."

"If he's bullying you, I don't care if he's a kid; I'll beat his ass." Carol frowned as the figure began to silently sob, her body rising and falling with shaky breaths. "Hey, what is it? You can tell me."

"I-I-I-c-cant!"

"Yeah you can, I'm your grandma, remember. Grandma's don't judge." Carol said, but Matilda shook her head.

"Has he done anything to you?" Shake. "Did he say something to you that upset you?" Shake. "Is it-"

"I-I d-don't know!" Matilda cried. "Leave me alone!"

"Do you want to be here?"

"N-no!"

"Okay, then let's go home." Matilda slowly lifted her head.

"R-really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Jenny says I can't because they'll charge her more."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I think I know a way around it."

….

"I got here as quickly as I could! What happened?" Jennifer demanded, nearly barreling over Carol to get inside.

"Shh, she's sleeping." She gestured to the lump on the couch.

"Why are you here? I thought you were going to volunteer at the daycare."

"All it took was asking the right person. I think I figured out what's wrong, at least partially. It's her brother."

"What?" Jennifer asked. "Her brother? She's barely even mentioned him before."

"They have him working at the daycare. All the stuff she's broken on Tuesdays. He's the one who has to clean it up."

"So this was all just to get at him?" Jennifer said.

"It's more complicated than that, I think. We had a good talk after we got back. She says she doesn't understand why she's been acting out and so gung ho to go after him, and I'm no therapist, but it sounds like she was trying to get him to just acknowledge her. The staff said he had told them he was an only child, and maybe Matilda overheard it. She also told me about seeing Zinnia in the grocery store right before school let out for the summer."

"What?" Jennifer said in shock. She racked her brain trying to remember ever having seen her, but there was nothing. She had a sinking suspicion she knew what day it was though. "I wonder if that's the time when she, well-" Carol nodded.

"They made eye contact for a split second, and Zinnia walked away like nothing happened. Matilda was in shock. Come to the table, I want to show you something you left here." They walked into the kitchen where Carol handed her a printed piece of paper from her time at the hospital.

"This is from…" Jennifer said in confusion.

"Look at one and two. Doesn't that sound just like her?"

"Denial and anger." Jennifer read aloud from the Five Stages of Grief chart. "But they're only across town; they're not dead."

"Maybe to her, they could be."

Jennifer put her head in her hands, before swiping at her face and reciting a C.S. Lewis quote she had learned at the hospital. "I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief."