The next morning, Bithi awoke to an unfamiliar ceiling. Memories of the night before flooded back as she groggily sat up in the bed she had borrowed. As part of the apology for her kids attacking her, Fran had let Bithi stay in one of the spare rooms in the orphanage.


    “An Orphanage…” Bithi grumbled to herself as she plopped back against the pillows. It was a strange concept to her, people abandoning their children for another to raise. If, like hers, a child''s parents passed or left in the grove, it was the job of the collective to raise and nurture those left behind.


    The orphanage was only the beginning of a long night of weird and foreign concepts getting shoved into Bithi’s brain. For every question answered, a dozen more took its place.


    Electricity, cars, laws, cellphones—words she couldn’t even properly remember. It hadn’t truly hit her how different life outside the forest was until she had sat down and talked with people.


    Lazily snuggling back into the soft bedding, she closed her eyes again. The constant yet strangely calm hustle and bustle of the city outside the windows reminded her of the forest. While the sounds were different, the ever-present presence of life was comforting to her.


    She rolled, stretching her legs out and letting them flop down as the blood rushed through her sleepy limbs. As much as she hated to admit it, she felt like she could sleep forever; her bed back in the grove might as well have been a stone slab compared to the divinity she lay upon now.


    But she knew she had to get up… eventually.


    After about fifteen minutes, she finally gathered enough courage to peel herself from the bed and stand. Luckily she had brought a change of clothes on her journey; supposedly it was rather frowned upon to wear the same clothes every day in the city. Bithi still didn’t get that one.


    Donning her simpler spare outfit, she fumbled with the door handle to her room for an embarrassing amount of time. Finally she unlocked it and stepped out into the hallway of the orphanage’s third floor. Decidedly small, but for the inhabitants, it was still the largest building Bithi had ever been inside of.


    The room she was given for the night was situated at the far end of the hallway opposite the stairs leading up. The only other person who stayed on the third was Fran, the orphanage''s owner. As for the other half dozen or so rooms, Bithi was told it was for storage, but she couldn’t even begin to imagine what would require so much space.


    Making her way to the stairs, being sure to step quietly so as to not wake Fran, she descended to the ground floor and entered the dining room. A large oval table surrounded by a hodgepodge of different chairs sat in the center of the room with two doors flanking either side. One led out into the yard from the day before, and the other led into a small kitchen.


    Down the hall past the stairs, Bithi could hear the faint murmurings of the orphanage’s already awoken occupants. It had not only been the three hooligans from before who lived with the old lady. Almost a dozen children, some as young as five, lived under the protection and care of the strong woman.


    “What a kind lady.” Bithi whispered to herself. Despite the woman''s gruff exterior and strange sense of humor, Bithi had learned just how much the kids meant to Fran the night before. She had listened to each and every one of the children’s recalling of their days with such intent for even the most mundane of things.


    No one could fake such a warm smile.


    Left with a warm, fuzzy feeling, Bithi felt she could take on anything the city had to throw at her.


    Grrrrowl


    After breakfast, of course.


    It wasn’t long before the rest of the orphanage awoke, some more pleasantly than others. Bithi sat patiently in the dining room with her bag and staff beside her as a stampede of children raced down the stairs not long after her.


    “Bacon!” A young freckled boy shouted. Jon was his name, one Bithi would surely not forget given how loud the boy was.


    “We had bacon yesterday, sausage!” A younger boy responded, Lulo, slipping past the blockage at the bottom of the stairs and racing into the kitchen. In just one dinner, Bithi knew the boy was rather nimble and quite the mischievous one.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    “G-Guys… You’re going to wake up, Auntie…!” A timid girl, trying to talk over the commotion, warned. But his warning went unheard or ignored; Bithi wasn’t quite sure which.


    Entering from down the hall, the few already-woken occupants joined the rest, and soon enough, all the children of the orphanage were crammed into the dining room. Taking their seats, all of the children filtered into the chairs. The three from before chose to sit at the far end of the table away from Bithi as they had done the night before.


    All of the younger children had welcomed Bithi in with open arms and simply chatted with her as if she had always been there. But the old three, aside from a few coerced apologies, had opted to avoid her.


    Bithi didn’t mind; while she was still curious about the identity of the mysterious man, she knew the kids were sincere in their regrets.


    “Hello, little Douglas.” Bithi was greeted with a warm smile.


    The youngest member of the orphanage, a little boy named Douglas, had waddled up to Bithi and begun pulling on the leg of her pants. He had done so the night before as well after the boy went through a brief period of what Bithi could only describe as confused shock.


    Lifting the little boy in her lap, much to the happiness of the liftee, she situated him snugly in her lap before scooting her chair in.


    “Comfy?” Bithi asked, to which Douglas responded with an enthusiastic nod. Bithi giggled, letting the boy play with a magical orb she conjured just for him.


    “He seems to have taken quite a liking to you.”


    Bithi jumped slightly as Fran spoke to her. She sincerely wondered how the woman walked so quietly, and from the expressions of the kids, so did they.


    “Well, I don’t mind. Most of the children back home are scared of me, so it''s a nice change.” Bithi responded as she twirled her fingers, causing the orb to pop into a sparkle of light.


    “Real shame you’ll be gone after breakfast then. In the two years that boy’s been here, I’ve not once seen him warm up to anyone like that.” Fran told us as she hefted a sack of vegetables out of a cupboard in the corner.


    “Ha ha ha…” Bithi didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t as if she had any responsibility to the orphanage or the city at all. It had been a strange twist of fate that placed her there at all.


    Yet, seeing the innocent twinkle in the boy’s eyes as he clumsily swatted at the flitters of light, she felt guilty. Of course, she would be staying in the city for a while after delivering the package. There wasn’t anything, or anyone, that said she couldn’t come visit the orphanage while she was there.


    “Moss and leaves…” Bithi whispered to herself. It was something her grandmother used to say, a sort of mantra. Though Bithi had never been told the meaning behind it, she had forged a meaning of her own behind the words.


    “Jon! Lily! You know what day it is; get in here!” Fran shouted from the kitchen, eliciting a groan from two of the table''s occupants. Slinking from their chairs, the energetic boy and timid girl entered the kitchen.


    It wasn’t long before they reemerged alongside Fran bearing a small feast of food. The younger kids roared, eagerly picking up their silverware and beaming from ear to ear. After the table was set and the food served, Fran took the seat beside Bithi.


    “Alright Douglas, time to eat. No, don''t fight me; Bithi needs to eat too.” Fran sighed, lifting the protesting boy from Bithi’s lap and depositing him on her own. Soon the chatter of the table was hushed by hungry mouths and full bellies.


    Once the food was gone and the table cleared, most of the children filtered out of the dining room. Some returned to their rooms; others left for something called a job, leaving just Bithi, Fran, and a sleepy Douglas.


    “Thank you for letting me stay here and for the food as well. It was very generous.” Bithi thanked with a bow.


    “Don’t sweat it, kid; even if those hooligans hadn’t done what they did, I’d have let you stay.” Fran replied with a slight grin.


    “Still, thank you.” Bithi repeated.


    “Ah, alright, alright, you’re going to make this old lady blush. Let me get this little goober in bed, and I’ll take you to the embassy.” Fran said, lifting and cradling Douglas in her arms. With the same eerie deftness as before, Fran ascended the stairs without as much as a creak, leaving Bithi alone.


    Bithi smiled. She was sure Fran had her own circumstances, and part of her wanted to ask how she ended up running the strange place called an orphanage. But she knew better than to pry; everyone had their journey and secrets. Even her.


    “What a lovely place.” Bithi spoke to no one.


    “What, this old crap shack?” An unfamiliar voice replied. Startled, Bithi spun around to face its origin. An act she was starting to get tired of.


    “Hi?” The voice''s owner, a woman roughly the same age as Bithi with messy orange hair and pale yellow irises, greeted with a confused look.


    “Who are you?”


    “Fia, who are you?”