I wake up in the morning with tired eyes. The clock tells me it's only 6:00 AM. I couldn't even sleep until 4:00.

I don't want to get up. I don't want to see Stephano today, and I don't want to see Susan.

I consider lying in bed all day. Stephano can't watch me here. But I wouldn't be able to pull that off.

What do I do with these three extra hours until breakfast? All of the other girls are still asleep. Despite my tired eyes, I feel wide awake.

I decided to get dressed. Blue is my favorite color, so I put on a shirt of that color and some denim Bermudas. I walk to the tall mirror beside my dresser and brush my hair. I brush it until long after the tangles are gone.

Hmm, I think. What to do, what to do...

I go to the closet, which sits between Elisa and Jean's dressers.

Inside are some dolls and other toys that have multiplied over the years. I realize it's very dusty inside, so I use the playhouse broom to sweep it out. Several people have told me I'm observant, but I don't see how I'm more observant than anyone else.

I sprawl on my bed and hum a tune before heading to the dresser. I open the top drawer, where Jill and I store our keepsakes. My side of the drawer contains a wallet, a scrapbook, my new camera, and a little jewelry box, along with a few little knickknacks like sticky notes and gum wrappers. I pull out the scrapbook. It's a little thing; each page is just a transparent sleeve big enough to hold a picture. I open it to the middle, and there is a picture of Jill and me from two years ago, swinging at a park. Cathy took that picture. She used to take them more often than she does nowadays.

I work my way backwards, looking at more pictures of Jill and me, when I start to see pictures of my parents. Me as a baby. I slam the book shut, and toss it back into the drawer as if it means nothing.

I reach for the camera, and sit on my bed to tinker with the settings until Jill wakes up.

~~~

After what feels like an eternity, she does wake up.

"Natalie?" She says, sitting up. "How long have you been awake?"

I just shrug, though I know exactly how long I've been awake.

"How should we avoid Stephano and Susan today?" she asks.

Fanomono and CruisinSusan, I think, trying not to laugh.

"I'll take you and Preston out for ice cream," I tell her.

Her face lights up. "Really?"

"Really."

"Yay!" She jumps up. Maybe she likes ice cream a little too much.

"Let's go downstairs," she suggests.

Okay, then. At least Stephano didn't see me watching him email that Mark Green person.

Downstairs, I am grateful to see that neither Stephano nor Susan is in the Main Room.

Jill plops herself down on a couch and lets the morning cartoons entertain her. I pay little attention to the TV.

Soon the Breakfast Button sounds, and I'm dreading Susan and Stephano standing by to watch me eat.

---------------------------------------------

That afternoon, Jill, Preston, and I walk to the ice cream shop.

I take a picture of them with my camera. I can see differences in the way they walk. Preston takes long, elegant steps, and Jill's are bouncy, almost as if she's skipping.

After ordering our ice cream, we sit at a table to eat it. Mine's vanilla, Preston's is coconut, and Jill's is strawberry.

"What do you think of the visitors, Preston?" Jill asks.

"Well," Preston replies, "I don't know. All nine years that I've been here, we've never gotten any orphanage inspectors."

You still haven't, I think. Natalie inspectors, maybe, but never an orphanage inspector. That would be absurd.

"I think the orphanage is fine the way it is," Jill says.

Preston and I nod in agreement.

"Nat?" Jill picks at the table. "Do you... even really want to be adopted?"

I think for a second before answering. "Huh. Guess not. At first, no. No one could replace my parents. Last year? I would have happily left the orphanage. Now, I'm afraid I love the place too much to willingly leave."

"And we're practically old enough that having parents now can't even benefit us all that much," Preston says.

"Cathy is the perfect mother for me," Jill adds.

I nod. The orphanage is definitely not the place I thought it would be, three years ago.

---------------------------------------------

We walk back to the orphanage slowly. Jill suggested we do that to avoid Stephano and Susan longer. Although, they really shouldn't even bother her that much. If I had no clue that they were watching me in particular, or that Stephano knew my dad, they probably wouldn't be so upsetting anymore. I suppose Jill is making a joke out of it, though.

"When are they leaving, again?" Preston asks.

"Monday," I say, "because yesterday was Tuesday."

"But you don't know they were planning on staying for exactly one week," Jill contradicts.

"Well-" I stop myself. I can't tell them about Stephano's email, where he'd said six more days. "Never mind. Guess you're right."

Silence takes over as we walk, so I observe the surroundings and the few pedestrians that are out today.

There's an elementary school across the street from us. Children play on the playground. We don't have lessons on Wednesdays. It's kind of a free day for us; a break in the middle of the week. We do lessons on Sundays, though.

I see an old man carrying a cane. He has crossed the crosswalk and is now about twenty feet in front of us. I look ahead of him to see what street comes next, when my eye catches an unusual glint of light.

I squint a little bit. With the sunlight shining today, I am able to see that there is a piece of fishing line stretched across the sidewalk. One side is tied to a stop sign, the other to a tree. A tripwire.

"What-?" I mutter under my breath.

I'm about to tell Jill and Preston about it when I see the old man. He doesn't appear to acknowledge the string. He'll trip if I don't warn him.

"Hey! Sir!" I call.

He doesn't notice. Maybe he doesn't realize I'm speaking to him.

"Sir..."

I look again at the tripwire. This time my eyes see something new - someone has placed a switchblade strategically in a crack in the sidewalk. The blade is turned up. It almost blended right in with the battered sidewalk. It's placed far enough from the wire that if someone landed on it, it'd go up their chest.

"Sir!"

I walk faster to close the distance.

"Nat?" Jill calls from behind.

"Sir!"

Why can't he hear me?!

He's got only a few more footsteps before he trips and gets impaled by that knife.

"Hey!"

I'm running toward him now.

"Hello? Sir? Can you hear me...?"

He pays absolutely no attention. I'm beginning to feel annoyed.

"Sir."

He continues to step toward the tripwire, and he's about to take his final step when I reach out and shove him to the side. He topples into the road, his cane dropping beside him.

Believe me, I felt bad doing it. But what was I supposed to do? That knife is pretty long, and by the looks of it, sharp.

"Sorry!" I say to the man, reaching out a hand to pull him out of the gutter. He grabs it, and I try to mask the trouble I have pulling him up.

"Nat!" Jill and Preston come up behind me. "What the heck?!"

"Listen, sir, I know I just did something rather rude but-"

He holds up a hand and gestures to his ears. Oh, I think. He's deaf. In my defense, it's not easy to think of possible reasons as to why someone is ignoring you while you're worried about saving their life.

"Oh," I look down.

I look back up at the man and then wave my hand toward the tripwire. Then, I take a huge step over it and walk to the knife on the ground. But when I try to pull it up, it doesn't buldge. Guess whoever set this up didn't want it tipping over.

"They glued it," Preston's voice above me makes me jump. He's looking over my shoulder at the knife.

"Yep," I say, "looks like shoe goo."

"That would be a thick enough substance."

"How long do you think they had to hold it to the ground while it dried?"

"Quite some time, I'd imagine."

"Who would do such a thing?"

"No clue."

"The Red?" Jill pipes up from the other side of the string.

I arrange my hair so it hides my face. I can't have anyone think I'm affected by this.

"I don't know. Does The Red normally kill this way?" Preston says.

"There's no sticker," my voice comes out harsher than I'd wanted it to.

I keep pulling on the knife. Whoever this was smothered the whole hilt with glue. The blade can't even be pushed down. It's sturdily deadly.

"We need to call the police," I say. "We can't have anyone else encountering this."

"I'll go to the school and use their phone," Jill says.

I look toward the school, and then nod. "Keep an open eye for more traps." She jogs across the street and into the school office.

I stand and the old man looks at me with grateful eyes. I smile at him. Then he walks away as if this whole thing never even happened. I guess he sees no reason to stay when he can't even communicate with us.

"You've probably covered up any fingerprints there might've been," Preston says.

"Sorry."

After a few minutes, Jill comes running back across the street.

"They're sending a few guys over to inspect this and remove the knife," she reports. "Where's the dude?"

"He just...left," I say, "So we just wait for the police to show up, then?"

"Guess so," she shrugs.

We stand awkwardly by the tree with the fishing line, waiting for the police. It won't take them long - the police station is only a few blocks down.

Soon enough, a shiny black car pulls up to the curb and a man steps out. He wears a tan police suit equipped with a gun and a taser and countless other police tools. But his car...There is no decoration on the side. Nothing to declare him a sherriff. If there weren't lights on top, I'd think he were here to kidnap us.

"You children should go home now; thanks for letting us know," the man says.

I give him a confused look. "You just want us to leave?"

"You aren't hurt, are you?"

"No, but-"

"Then you'd better leave the investigating to us, missy."

"Ok then..." I reluctantly turn and walk away, with Jill and Preston following.

Where's this man's help? He has no backup. But I really shouldn't argue with a police officer.

I wonder who set up the tripwire. I wonder who it was meant for. I wonder if it was The Red.