Laudna continued turning the card over in her hands the whole walk home. Allura wasn't a bad replacement, when Dr. Grass was away, but… she wasn't the same. She pushed. Knew others that had attended Briarwood Academy. Talked too much about what had helped them. Didn't understand her as well as Foster did.

Foster talked to her like they were giving the advice he needed at that age. Like a friend. The only friend she'd had since…

Laudna pulled out her phone, the familiar cracked screen held in place with tape, and opened her contacts. She entered Allura's number under "Saturday Emergency." Better to have and not need than need and not have.

Too true.

Her mind snapped to focus on everything she'd been avoiding at her session. The expectation, the pressure, the canings… Her back burned under the phantom bruises. Only the best were accepted. Excellence wasn't praised; it was expected… demanded. Anything short of perfection was an insult to the city of Whitestone. If they wanted the land's prosperity to continue, the best and brightest minds needed to be… pruned. Creativity was important, yes, but meaningless without application, innovation.

"When you plant a tree, you care for it. You give it support and cut off any illness so it does not infect the rest of the wood. One fungus can decimate a forest if left unchecked," she recalled the madam saying before a punishment.

But Madam Briarwood wasn't just cutting off the sickly parts, was she? Weakness, sure. Who would argue? Selfishness and pride were quickly… removed when someone arrived. Not that Launda ever had those traits. But she did have an abundance of empathy. She was… timid. Reserved. Hesitant.

The madam seemed to make a personal goal of squeezing it from her like a juice. Hollowed her out until she felt like a corpse most days. Trained her charges 'the Wildemount way.'

Launda still prayed she never met anyone else from Wildemount.

Then, after six years, it just… stopped. The news came like rain. Sir and Madam Briarwood were arrested, along with a dozen or so teachers. Briarwood Academy simply never reopened. The accusers stayed anonymous, and someone interviewed Laudna. Yes, the beatings were real. Yes, they took measurements weekly to make sure no one was indulging… well, no one who wasn't granted the privilege. How did you get it? By tattling. Betraying your peers. Selling them out for a pastry with supper. Did anyone sell you out?

Oh, yes. Many times. Her little bonsai companion was found and burned alive. A notebook of doodles confiscated, probably destroyed. Not like the smarter kids, who had their ideas stolen. Her drawings were landscapes. Still life. The mayor's boy, though… everyone knew he had whole inventions in his books later published under Miss Ripley's name before he ran away. He was one of the few.

Probably the one who blew the whistle on the whole affair, too. It was easy to accuse a blue collar child of lying. Convincing the mayor his son ran away just to be rebellious was… harder. Especially when he returned years later with improved designs of contraptions that stagnated under Miss Ripley's care and a whole bunch of friends backing him up.

"Watch out!"

Something hit her hard in the chest. Laudna raised a fist as she blinked the fog from her mind. An arm withdrew quickly.

"The… traffic," the woman attached said, her voice timid and drawling.

Laudna muttered an apology and lowered her hand. The things that kept you safe at school are bad for your health. This wasn't someone who wanted to hurt her.

The woman, a little shorter than her, about her age, adjusted the thin, rectangle glasses on her nose and kept her attention on the pavement. Laudna, however, focused on her. Gently sun-kissed skin, waves of lavender-dyed hair with platinum roots showing through, a lightning bolt tattoo on her forearm. Simply dressed, too: blue jeans, a white shirt and yellow vest with a pin on the lapel. One of those little pride flags some people wore, she guessed, all orange and pink. She'd seen a few on that boy's - Ashton's - belt, too, but not this one specifically. She added it to her research list.

"You're starin'," the woman said after a moment.

"Sorry! You're just… interesting."

She snorted. "Please. Girls like me are a dime a dozen."

Not really, thought Laudna, but instead of commenting on it, she asked, "Are you from Southern Marquet?"

"Uh, yeah, Gelvaan. Why?"

"My- friend… He's from that area. So. Similar accent."

"I see."

The crosswalk lit up and both girls started down the sidewalk again, this time with Laudna actually paying attention to her surroundings. Which allowed her to note the other's suitcase.

"Are you attending Starlight?" She asked casually.

The girl nodded, "Starting Tuesday, yeah."

"Maybe we'll have classes together! What are you studying?"

"Uh, a-astrophysics."

"We're both in the science department, then. That's fun! I'm Laudna."

"Hi."

"What's your name?"

"Are you following me?"

Laudna flinched at the sharpness in the woman's voice.

"N-no! I live this way."

The woman cocked a pale, skeptical brow at Laudna then sighed and muttered something under her breath. Laudna bit her lip.

"Sorry," she uttered gently. "My… friend says I can get… chatty. When I'm nervous."

The woman chuckled. "Why are you nervous?"

Laudna hummed. How transparent was acceptable around strangers? How much could she say without scaring this innocent girl off?

"I don't have the best luck with making friends," she explained. "But my- my shrink… wants me to try. It's… scary."

The guarded expression on the woman's face melted into… concern? Sympathy? Pity, probably.

"Imogen," she said softly. "My name's Imogen."

It sounded familiar. Where had she-?

Oh. Oh.

"You're not, by any chance… moving to Zhudanna's boarding house?"

"You know her?"

"I'm a resident."

Imogen's eyes widened. Then she snorted and laughed.

"Well, that's certainly my luck," she said, still chuckling. "Ain't no such thing as coincidence for me."

"Oh?"

"I mean, even since I was a kid, everything's just been like dominos," Imogen continued. "One thing leading to the next then the next… all predetermined, falling over exactly when they should."

"Predetermined?"

"Of course! Think about it. Atoms are just cogs in a machine, spinning out into the universe based on tiny differences. If you were born even a minute later than you were, you would probably have had a totally different life. All because the atoms would have been a touch different, the chemicals flowing a slightly different way-."

"You sound like Dr. Thelyss," said Laudna.

"I have them for Introductory Cosmology," Imogen said.

"He's very smart. Sometimes too smart."

"Yeah?"

Laudna smiled. "You sound smart, too. You'll be fine. I didn't fare… quite so well."

"Oh, what's your major?"

"Horticulture."

"Fascinating. You don't strike me as the flowery type."

"Well, you know," Laudna stammered, waving her hands, "just because I may not look pretty doesn't mean-."

"I didn't say you weren't pretty."

"What?"

"I mean… You have a style. It doesn't make you not pretty."

"Oh. Well… it's more trees than flowers anyway. My interest. Where I used to live, there was this great tree in the town square. Beautiful, strong tree. Older than the town, they said. And when it got sick, everyone panicked. Our mayor paid an arborist to come look at it. She spent all summer nursing it back to health. It was… inspiring. I want to do that."

"That's beautiful. What town is that?"

"Uh, Whitestone. Actually," Laudna grinned, "I'm on a student Visa. I'm from Tal'Dorei."

"Oh, wow! I'd never have guessed. Your Marquesian is really good."

"Why, thank you, Imogen. It was… an elective at… school."

"You must have had a good teacher."

He wasn't. But that could wait, Launda told herself, pushing it to the back of her mind. Instead, she pointed ahead.

"Ah, look! That's Zhudanna's. You sent your things ahead, yes? All those heavy boxes?"

"Yeah, my books. Well, and a few personal items. There should be eight of them."

"Yes, we saw the numbers. Very clever. I believe number five is still in transit. Hopefully it arrives soon."

"Right, that one… that one had to be detoured. It's very fragile."

"Fragile, or special?"

"Both, really," Imogen said with a smile. "My mother… She died when I was young, like real young. But my daddy let me keep her telescope. It's how I feel close to her."

"I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

"Well, it can seem… closer. When you think about it."

"Did you lose someone?"

In a way…

"There was a situation. With my parents. We don't really… speak anymore," said Laudna.

"What happened?"

Laudna grinned at her and said, "It was mutual destruction. I ruined their reputation, they ruined my life, you know? The usual."

Imogen's eyes widened behind her glasses.

"You think that's usual?" she asked.

Laudna tilted her head.

"Isn't it? Teenagers normally rebel against their parents, no?"

"Yes, but parents aren't supposed to retaliate. What did they do?"

"Boarding school."

"Ah. I hear bad things about those. Was it one of the ones that got shut down for its discipline?"

Laudna chewed a thumbnail, saying, "Y-yes. Actually. It was."

A beat of silence hung over the duo as they climbed the porch steps of the boarding house. Laudna knocked twice before opening the door.

"Doorbells are for strangers," she explained. "She says I don't need to knock, but I do. So she knows it's me."

"That's real sweet. I like that."

Laudna smiled at her new roommate again and led her inside. Archways to the left and right stood dark while light poured in from the hallway straight ahead.

"Our rooms are up those stairs," she said, gesturing to the left. Zhudanna's suite is to the right. Off-limits, of course, unless she invites you in. Usually she's in the parlor knitting, though…"

Indeed, when Laudna popped her head into one of the rooms off the hallway to see the old woman in her favorite rocking chair. Her tight brown curls dangled in front of her face, nearly blending in with the yarn in her hands. Needles clicked, stopped, resumed.

"Hello, Zhudanna," Laudna cooed. "What are you making today?"

"Oh, Laudna… Just a scarf today. Nothing special… How was your meeting? Feeling better?"

Laudna shrugged. "Foster poked a little deep today. But I met someone on the way home!"

Laudna beckoned Imogen closer. The colorful woman stepped hesitantly into the doorway and waved to the old lady inside.

"H-hi. I'm Imogen Temult. You-."

"Imogen! How nice to finally meet you."

Zhudanna set her knitting needles aside and pushed herself up.

"Oh, I can show her around, Zhudanna," insisted Laudna, holding a hand out to still the old woman. "You work on your scarf."

"Ah, alright… Oh, I need to order more groceries for dinner."

Imogen blushed as Zhudanna plucked a tablet from the basket next to her and started tapping on it. Laudna pointed across the hall to a large archway. She led Imogen towards it.

"I hope I'm not imposing…," Imogen said

"Not at all. Zhudanna loves taking care of people," Laudna assured her. "Besides, it's paid for, right? And I usually help her cook. You can help, too, if you'd like."

"Oh, I'm no good in the kitchen, really… Maybe I can wash dishes?"

"Only if you like, of course."

"Of course."

"This is the dining room."

Laudna gestured at the table and chairs, ornate woodwork worn down by age, scuffed and stained with use. Laudna traced the arched back of one chair as she walked past it to the kitchen.

"And here's the kitchen. I made sure to clear out a space here," she said, opening a cupboard to show Imogen, "for you to keep any snacks you want. That shelf is mine, though."

She pointed to the shelf above the empty one, a label sporting her name stuck to the wood. A half-full jar of peanut butter and several unboxed pop tarts sat on it. She pulled a tin packet down and started prying it open.

"Ooh, fudge!"

Taking a bite, she slipped past Imogen, back into the dining room, and down the hallway. She then ushered the woman up the stairs.

"There are four bedrooms," she continued, "but they're quite large. More studio apartments than bedrooms, in my opinion. And each one has a mini fridge, if you need. Just plug it in. This one is yours. Mine is across the way. There's also a bathroom with a shower."

"And my things are…?"

"Already inside, yes," Laudna said, smiling. "Waiting for you."

Imogen smiled back.

"You know," she said quietly, "I think I'm the one who was waiting for this, Laudna."

With that, she stepped inside the room and shut the door behind her.