Chapter 13 – Running Without Sound
The sun hovered lazily over the town square, painting the stones gold. We sat at the edge of the fountain, half-soaked in sunlight, eating ice cream that was melting faster than we could lick it.
Mine was lemon. Hers was mulberry.
"So," she said, kicking her heels gently against the stone, "how's life in the eternal chaos pit?"
"The orphanage? Oh, splendid," I said. "Ruu's eaten soap three times this week, Mira believes she's the queen of the western wing, and Joq has evolved from hoarding biscuits to hoarding socks. It's a social experiment gone wrong."
She laughed, nearly dropping her cone. "Socks?"
"All kinds. Striped, plain, damp, suspiciously crunchy."
She shivered. "Ew."
"Oh, and Sister Ilen's developed a new strategy of discipline. She now gives us 'the look.' You know the one. Where she doesn't blink. I think she might be part statue."
Rita clapped her hand against her mouth, laughing harder. I smiled.
It felt normal.
