As it turned out, I had been more…messed up than I'd thought. Getting over the dehydration was…terrible, but I'd thought – hoped, really – getting past it and some mild hunger would be the end of things, and I would be back to normal. Which would have been true, if, disoriented, I hadn't broken my leg trying to climb down a ladder and ended up back in the care of Dr. Wexton Church.

At least I didn't break my glasses, though I'm starting to believe they may just have the absolute best luck in the world.

I still can't stop shaking, at least, not when I start thinking about how all of this happened. Alfie is dead, Amata had to kill him, and I had to leave and now here I am desperate to know where to go. I've never had to make many difficult choices for myself. I think the most difficult choice I ever had to make was to cheat on the GOAT to get put on the fast track to learn medicine in the Vault. I don't like lying but I also didn't want to end up doing something I'd hate, especially with the chance of me becoming part of Vault security. I'm pretty sure I'd have found a way to run away if that happened. Or get it changed. Butch probably would have been willing to help. Amata was pretty annoyed by it, but helping him cheat on the GOAT too ended up being a great decision. I wouldn't have guessed Butch DeLoria of all people was aspiring to be a hairdresser but he was thrilled to get the result back. He ended up being pretty good at it, too, and I still think it's hilarious he teased Amata for being jealous of my hair being thin and flat as paper when she has gorgeous dark curls that frame her face perfectly when she lets her hair down. I'm glad it's hers, though, and not mine. The best thing about having just about no texture or volume to my hair is the fact it's easier to detangle despite being long. Sleeping with it braided helps, too.

Sitting in front of the mirror in Moira's living room, I braid my hair after I shower every night. It's soothing, and keeping my hands busy, I think, has helped me not get too spun up about things. I daydream a lot while doing it, sometimes. When I was little, I saw a movie in the Vault about a girl called Rapunzel, who had long hair, hair which, when braided, was still so long it was barely a few inches above the hem of her dress. I'd wanted a pet rabbit after seeing the movie because of the funny rabbit friend she had, and the dragon friend she had was neat, too. I'm no artist, but I've always been in awe of it and seeing Rapunzel paint in the movie kept me entranced by it, the enchanted paintbrush something I wish I had. Maybe, if I had one, I could have gone on adventures too, ones to beautiful kingdoms with Amata, and to balls, dancing in dresses twirling all around. Even now, I still love the movie, but the poem in it made me cry when I watched it again, the day after my dad left the Vault.

Constant as the stars above, always know you are loved, and my love shining in you will help you make your dreams come true, will help your dreams come true.

I always thought of it as what I hoped mom would think of me, but I began to cry when I realised, now, it was what I hoped mom and dad think of me.

What's hurt the most isn't just not knowing where he is or why he left or having to leave Amata. It's realising we were lied to our entire lives by Alfie, by those under his control. And I never wanted my curiosity about the world outside the Vault to be answered like this. Things are alright here, and Moira is an absolute sweetheart I couldn't be happier to have as a temporary roommate. And I'm still alive, mostly recovered, and going to be able to find dad...hopefully and hopefully soon. It really is strange, how you can be living your dreams and nightmares at the very same time. I know what the world outside the Vault is like now but I had to leave because it wasn't certain I'd be safe there and because I need to know where dad went and why.

I still don't know why you left, dad…you're the only parent I've ever known so…so why did you think I wouldn't go after you and want to know why you left…or why you thought you had to leave?

There's another movie I loved watching as a kid, almost as much as the one about Rapunzel. Amata and I used to sing along to it and loved the story of a woman raised by animals on an island falling in love with a man from a far away kingdom, a man who sought adventure his entire life. But one of the songs feels different, now. In a way, maybe I'm that woman, Amata is the person she fell in love with…and now I have questions I need to know answers to. I need to know why. The song was so pretty, gentle and wavy, driven by violin and piano, but some of the words feel uncomfortably tangible now.

I need to know these answers, I need to find my way. Seize my tomorrow, learn my yesterday. I need to take these chances, can't tell what's waiting, but still I need to go. I need to know.

I need to know why dad left.

I need to know how things got to this point in the first place.

I need to know if I really am the reason my mother is…why I never…

My body beginning to shake less, I push myself up from sitting on Moira's couch and hobble towards the stairs down to her shop. A bit awkwardly and a bit nervously because breaking my other leg wouldn't be…wouldn't help anything, I sit down at the top of the stairs after opening and closing the door. Step by step, I scootch down the stairs, trying not to smack my broken leg in the metal brace on the steps, and eventually make my way down to the bottom. When I pull myself up again, I hobble towards the main store and wave at Moira when I see her and it's comforting to see her bright smile. I smile a little at the customers in the store and sit down on the back wall bench in front of a small table. To my surprise, Moira comes over and sits down across from me, notepad and pen in hand after the last few customers trickle out. How late is…or how early is…

"Glad to see you're up," She chirps. "I've got to ask – when'd you have to get up in the Vault?"

"Every day except the first and third Saturday of every month at six in the morning," I laugh a little. "Is it six in the morning? I can't tell, it looks dark outside the windows but…"

September 4th…that wasn't just the day I had to…

That was the first time I saw natural light.

"It's around five in the morning," Moira shrugs and I can't help but smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Actually alright, all things considered," Everything is weird, there's too much unknown, but its true, I don't feel bad. Not physically. My leg feels…off but not terribly painful – has it really been two weeks since I… "And thanks, Moira, again, for everything."

"Just glad we found you instead of raiders," Moira says before suddenly cutting herself off. Raiders? A few people in town have talked about raiders but what even are – "I spoke with Moriarty last night," She says when she starts talking again. "The bar owner. You seen him about, right?"

"The one you said to not let him give me a hard time?" I nod. "He's…I'm guessing he doesn't like me very much. We talked a bit, and he told me…showed me…and gave me a few things but he wasn't happy about it…I get the sense he wants me gone as soon as possible."

"To be completely honest? The short answer is yes, but, keep in mind, he doesn't like many people all that much," Moira replies, uncomfortably pausing. "Still, not a lot of…the longer you've been here, the less people seem to like you. Not just because you're an outsider or a Vault Dweller, but because you…really don't have a filter. Church and I don't mind, but I think we're the only ones."

"Is it because of what I said to the guys talking about how nuclear detonations are 'holy events?'" I roll my eyes when she nods. "They're out of their minds. Nuclear weapons detonations are how we ended up in the world falling apart to begin with."

"You're not wrong," Moira says with a sigh. "But you probably shouldn't have said it. Or laughed before saying it and asking them if they were junkies."

"What was I supposed to say?" I know she has a point, but was I supposed to say nothing to that? "I wasn't going to lie and tell them I agree with them!"

"Look, honey," Moira reaches across the table and rests her hands over mine, speaking calmly. "I get it, I really do. But you can't just say shit like that. No idea what it was like in the Vault, but people out here have real short tempers. You need to adapt, and you need stop living or acting like you did before you ended up out here. You're not stupid, you can learn, but you need to actually try."

"I'm not going to be here much longer," I assure her. "I just need to figure out how to get to Rivet City. I…apparently, that's where I was born."

Moira blinks quickly. "You get that from Moriarty? How'd he know?"

"He helped my dad get into the Vault with me," I hesitate, my hands are starting to shake again, but I eventually get the holotape, note, and photographs out of my back pocket. "I thought he was lying at first, trying to get me out of here as soon as possible," I say quietly. "But he wasn't. This…these photographs are my parents and my dad holding me as a baby, the one with me…it was…pretty clearly, I think, not taken in the Vault."

"Definitely not," Moira agrees with a light hum. "Looks like somewhere in a home but not anywhere close to a Vault. But what's all this got to do with you needing to know how to get to Rivet City, even if you were likely born there?"

"Because if dad left the Vault in a hurry, the only place I can think of he'd go to is Rivet City," I tell her. It's the only damn lead I've got. What other choice do I have except to follow it? "As for knowing Moriarty wasn't lying to me, I…he knew something only me and my dad knew, at least, I'm pretty sure."

She raises an eyebrow. "Really? Moriarty of all people?"

"Yes," I say, staring at the fraying, old photograph of my parents. "There's nothing on the back of there to have told him it, which is my mother's name. Catherine Maria Davis…or Landine, before she and dad got married, anyways."

Moira nods. "What's on the holotape?"

"My dad's…thoughts after leaving Rivet City with me, and ending up here," I hesitate, picking it up and putting it back in my pocket. "The note was attached to the back of one of the photographs, and I don't recognise the handwriting, but I think that's because it's probably…it's probably my mother's."

I sweep up the note the second I've got my holotape back in my pocket. Maybe she's already read it while looking at the photographs. But it still feels strange, almost as though it needs to be kept away from prying eyes. Seeing is believing, but is it the truth? It's not dad's handwriting, I'd recognise his anywhere after having spent the last three years reading it as I began training to be a doctor in the Vault, just like him. My handwriting is small and neat, and dad's is similar but much more curved. This is messy, but not hastily messy…it's as if the writer was always more focused on getting their words out rather than keeping it looking perfect and neat. I don't know if it's mom's, and it could be anyone's but, if it's not hers, why else would it have been taped to the back of a photograph of my parents' wedding?

"Rivet City is the only place I know he's been," I say when Moira begins staring at me with worry in her eyes again. "And where else would he go when he left? He…he said on the holotape he left me…he said he had to leave to 'fulfil commitments and wrap up some unfinished business.' And, even if he's not there, I…I hopefully will be able to find some of his former colleagues and maybe they'll know something."

"Shit," Moira lets out a long, low whistle. "Alright, then. If you really want to go to Rivet City, I sure as hell ain't going to stop you, but I'm going to take you there myself."

"Better than me nearly dying again trying to find it," I sigh. "But what's it going to cost me? I don't exactly have any money on me."

"Getting you to Rivet City is going to be an easy quid pro quo, nothing more," She replies. "As you know, I'm working on writing a book about how to survive out here which, for now, I'm calling 'Moira Roseanna Brown's Wasteland Survival Handbook.' Rivet City's at best a two day's trek from here. So, you help me by giving me comparisons to what you expected from living in the Vault and answering any questions I might have to put into and explain in my book, and I'll get you safely to Rivet City before turning on back home to here."

"Alright, let's do that," I eye her strangely when she smiles. "I still don't know why you're being so nice to me. You got me through severe dehydration, you're letting me stay with you, and now you're going to help get me to Rivet City? Why?"

"Because, deep down, below the big mouth, I think you're a good person," She says, hectically waving her hands around dismissively. "I got the sense when I was nursing you back to health, and it still hasn't left me. Also…honestly, I think the sooner you're out of here, the better, not just for everyone else here but for you. Sympathy for you has run out, honey. The sooner you're gone, the better, and, truthfully, you're going to be a lot safer from everything in the world in Rivet City than in here, even if you don't find your dad there."

"Hard to be less safe than sleeping near a nuclear bomb," I say to which she only shrugs. "Does it really not make you nervous? What if it goes off?"

"It was disarmed by some of those Brotherhood Of Steel people," Moira says, looking unnerved. "They pass through the town every so often, mostly to make sure we're safe and don't get attacked. It's good they're around, and they're perfectly cordial, but the Children Of Atom don't get along with the Brotherhood at all. So, even though the bomb can't go off or do damage anymore, the real concern is a conflict between the Children and the Brotherhood. But don't worry about it. You'll be on your way soon."

"Hopefully," I sigh, gathering up the photographs. "When do you think we should leave?"

"Since we're going to be taking it a bit slow so you can help me out with my book," She winks. "In a few days, the ninth at the latest. The last time I went to Rivet City, it only took me two days but I'm not going to push you that hard. Between you answering my questions and comparing what you're seeing is really out here with what you thought would be from living in a Vault and getting you there safely and in one piece, I think it'll take about four or five days. Take some time to rest up a little more and get your things together and, I promise, you'll be ready to leave with me then."

"How many times have you gone to Rivet City?" I'm shaking but why? Almost desperate to keep myself calm, I wrap one hand around my glasses and keep the other resting on top of the photographs. "I'm guessing it's nothing like here."

"Rivet City is nothing like here," Moira confirms with a bit of a laugh. "It's huge, makes Megaton look even smaller than we are. Last time I was there they were doing more construction to keep building the city outwards because the population keeps growing. That was about a year and a half ago, and about forty five hundred people were living there, I'm pretty sure. That was what I heard, anyways. The Brotherhood has a massive presence there, and keeps the city safe from pretty much everything, though the city's security force could give them a run for their money."

"So why stay here?" I say, glancing around the shop quickly and relaxing when it's clear we're still alone. "It sounds safer and…nicer there."

"And both of those are true," Moira says, standing up and walking back behind the counter, looking for something. "I think most people here stay because it's all they've ever known, and a lot of them are wary of people who trust the Brotherhood anyways. I don't blame them for it, but the Brotherhood do keep people safe and, at the end of the day, I think people here don't want the comfort and luxury of Rivet City. They want to live a relatively raw life, and so they do. As for me, I stay here because it's the best place to do work and keep going with writing my book, since there's always so many rough and tumble guys coming in and out."

"Something does seem to always be happening here," I stare at her, confused when she comes back from around the counter with several cloves of garlic in her hands and begins to hang them in baskets on her curtain rods above her windows. "What are those for?"

"Protection," She says, turning around after slipping one of the cloves into its basket. "I always keep it on my windows. My great grandmother started the tradition in our family, at least, that's as far I as I know. She used it as curtains, but I'm terrible at weaving and I'm not fully convinced you can even weave curtains out of garlic to start with. Either way, it's protection against dangerous creatures who look like us but are not human, dangerous, are only seen at night, and like to come into people's homes without invitation."

"Does that happen?" I eye her strangely when she shakes her head. "So, then why do this if there's no threat?"

"I don't know," She admits, shaking out her hair. "But we all have things we do, even if we don't have a reason for it, don't we?"

I don't know what to say but I eventually nod and hope she isn't paying too much attention.

Everything is going to figure itself out. I'm alive, I'm not going to die, and I'm going to be able to figure things out when I get to Rivet City. I'll have to.

But how did everything change so fast? And…and why?