"Lydia?" a soft voice called through her bedroom door, following a tap. "Are you awake? It is breakfast time."

The teenage orphan rolled off of her bed, her nightgown unraveling. "I will be right out. Go on ahead."

There was no response, which she took as a sign that Kylee had indeed abandoned her, and slipped on a pair of brown slippers. As she headed to the door, Lydia saw a shadow blocking a part of the crack of light beneath her door; feet waiting for her.

Kylee?

Lydiana reached for the doorknob when a new shadow in the shape of a giant bird appeared on her door. She whipped around but saw nothing outside her window nor anywhere else.

But of course. There was no such thing as a bird that big. Not in St. Austin, at least.

"Lydia?" a new voice called.

The orphan threw open her door to see Ms. Sweetnam waiting expectantly for her with the most grave expression she have ever seen her wear.

Lydia knew right then that she had learned of her stealing exploits and she was going to be thrown out of the orphanage. It was only a matter of time, and who would miss a thief?

"I must speak with you now," the lady of the house announced, and Lydia followed her with no protests about missing breakfast.

Ms. Sweetnam led Lydia directly into her office and the orphan cursed inside. She was definitely in trouble.

"Lydiana," Ms. Sweetnam closed the door behind her, "you may sit down."

"I would rather not," the guest answered.

Without putting up a fight, the mother of the orphanage placed herself behind her desk and said, "Lydiana, you are aware that your eighteenth birthday is in a few days."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're eighteenth," she repeated, as if Lydia did not understand the importance of the matter.

Lydia glanced around the office, deciding to take in the surrounding since this would probably be the last time she would be there. The last time she was present was when she played blind barber on Lilly's hair.

Not much had changed. The walls were a pinstriped, rusty, pale green with watercolor paintings and awkward children made trinkets displayed everywhere. The furniture was white floral and looked painfully stiff, and the floor had a circular yellow rug with a red stain on it-this was the carpet that Lilly ruined.

Ms. Sweetnam must have switched rugs.

Lydia glanced at the desk covered with stacks of papers, stamps, and feathered pens with bottles of colored ink. She always wanted to try and write letters to people but never had someone to write to.

When some of the children were adopted, she was offered the opportunity to write to them, but her shyness got the better of her. What if they never responded? Why would they want to still be a part of their old life when they had a new one with their own room, a loving family, and new clothes? She certainly would not write back.

That was selfish, but at least she was honest. Maybe it was because of this personality of Lydia's that she was not getting adopted.

"Do you have any plans of what you will do if you are not, you know..."

Lydia clicked her tongue and pretended to be seriously considering Ms. Sweetnam's question.

"Well, I think owning my own business or marrying someone extremely wealthy, perhaps a duke-"

"Lydiana," her "mother" warned.

"-but I suppose being a nanny," she corrected herself, "or a maid will do. The wealthy are always in need of housekeeping. Or so I believe."

"Lydiana."

"What?" The orphan blinked innocently.

"I really do wish you to be adopted," the adult confessed. "But as a precaution, you should have a reasonable job to support yourself if you are not."

"Do you think selling myself is fairly supportable?"

Ms. Sweetnam gaped. "Lydiana! Watch your tongue."

"What tongue? Did I say something unreasonable?"

"It is that mouth of yours that will get you in trouble." The women that raised the high-spirited girl, aged by stress and the cruelty of time, judged Lydia with pruned eyes.

"Perhaps that is why I have not been wanted. Because of my mouth."

Ms. Sweetnam hesitated. "I did not say that."

"Do you deny it, then?"

"We are here to talk about your future, Lydiana."

"I do not want to!" Lydia blurted out, livid. So what if she had a bad mouth-so do most children in this orphanage! And they all manage to be adopted. Was she perhaps cursed?

Ms. Sweetnam slowly stood to her feet. "You need to calm down. We may be able to put together a stable situation for you. You are a good child."

Lydia snorted. "I steal from the rich. Am I still a good child?"

The old lady was stunned. "You what?"

"Maybe that should be my "stable future". I am good at it."

"Ly-"

Lydia could feel her little control wearing thin. She had not had breakfast, they were talking about her bleak future plans, and now Ms. Sweetnam was aware that she was a criminal. She did not want to get into a fight. Not now. Not yet.

Lydiana threw open Ms. Sweetnam's door and ran through it, heading for some place to be alone.

...

It was another scorching summer day, the sun ready to drill right through his tan skin and melt him into a light puddle on the cobblestone street. Clouds were chased away from the heat as well as all animals, but not the people. Everyone on St. Austin's was ready for the upcoming Summer Awakening Festival. For the wealthy, they celebrate inside cool ballrooms, but the underprivileged dance on the streets, not caring they might collapse from a stroke.

"Honestly, I prefer the way the poor do it," Kasey confessed as he hauled a suitcase over his back. "They enjoy life to the fullest; they do not hide from the heat."

"I am surprised," Destery smiled. "I always thought you to be the type to attend to festivities of the noble."

"There is nothing wrong with preferring the richer side of things as well. Which brings me to the question." Kasey chucked his luggage onto the roof of a carriage, earning a few protests from the couple inside. "Why do I have to play slave? Why cannot I go undercover as a duke, or a prince, or someone that does not do manual labor?"

"Because then Felicia would have to work with me and we both know that would never happen."

"Who knows." Kasey tapped his chin. "I think Felis could easily disguise herself as a guy."

"You know she would loathe doing this as much as you. More, even. Besides, you and I get more time together."

Kasey pressed a callous hand against his chest. "Des, I am very flattered, but I am afraid I can only return your feelings as a bro-"

Destery kicked Kasey in his left shin with the corner of a brown leather suitcase, laughing.

"Look!" Kasey pointed forward as he rubbed his knee. "Normal girls you claim we cannot have."

His partner reluctantly turned and saw plain, but pretty in their own way, ladies chatting briefly while on their way to brunch or some casual event.

They carried small parasols, each wearing a pastel colored dress. Light pink, violet, baby blue, and daisy yellow.

"Perhaps they are sisters," Kasey remarked eagerly. "I claim the pink and the blue."

"Kase-" By the time Destery looked back Kasey had abandoned his post and was on his way to flirt with strangers. Destery knew that he could easily charm them, he always had, but Destery wondered why Kasey never learned that these actions only got him into trouble. Maybe he did not see the point in it.

"If you have a chance, take it. Because you only live that moment once," Kasey joked.

Destery was much like Felicia when she would see a pair of gorgeous shoes. It could possibly literally kill her to purchase them immediately, so she would decide to wait for a sale. But when she did, most of the time those shoes would be gone.

Chloe was not like that. If she saw something she wanted, she would have it, no but, ands, or ifs. If the shoes were gone, she would hunt down the person who bought her size and force them into surrendering the desired item.

Felicia has been indebted to Chloe for doing these unspeakable things, just as Destery had been indebted to Kasey.

Destery gently sat the suitcases beside their owner's carriage and stared after the women that his partner had managed to stop.

Sure, they were not a quarter as pretty as Lia and Felis, but they were definitely better, safer. And Destery really should live in the moment.

"Ah, ladies, meet Destery." Kasey grabbed his friend by his shoulders and yanked him into the clique. "Destery, meet April, May, June, and July."

Destery looked at Kasey's wink of: I know. Mad, but the names will be easy to remember, and then observed each girl coolly.

April was the girl in light pink with blonde hair, mundane blue eyes, and freckled pink skin. Her face was very commonplace-nothing extraordinary about it. The nose was of average size and so were the lips. Her blonde eyelashes were short and her cheekbones were straight. Again, April was not ugly, she just was not...special.

May wore violet with mousy brown hair and blue eyes, with tan freckled skin. Her face structure was almost identical to April's. June wore the blue, July wore the yellow, and they are definitely twins with their copper red hair, hazel eyes, and pale skin.

"They are sisters," Kasey explains. "Des and I are cousins."

Destery glanced at him in amusement. They appeared nothing like cousins. Kasey with his black sleek hair, pink sunburnt skin, and electric blue eyes and Destery with his dark honey hair-a complete mess-on top of his rough light tan skin and golden green eyes.

Felicia described them as the two different types of boys girls always want: The Gentleman and the Forbidden Boy.

The girls all giggled, a clash of choked squeals that pinched Destery's ears, and they immediately asked if the servant boys would be interested in taking them to brunch.

"That is, if you are not busy," April asks, now hesitant after noticing their uniform.

"For you ladies, we will take you anywhere," Kasey assured. "Where would you like?"

Destery reluctantly offered his left hand, ready to accept whichever hysteric lady decided to grab him first, when his eyes landed on somebody racing quickly into view.

At first he only noticed them because they were moving so fast, and in a nightgown too, which was odd by itself. But then the thick black hair flying in the wind and her graceful speed registered within Destery's impeccable memory and he stepped instantly away from the group.

"What are you doing?" Kasey asked, grabbing Destery's arm to keep him from abandoning their mission of swooning strangers.

"I will tell you later," he answered, not risking the time to explain the situation to Kasey and losing sight of the mysterious girl.

Destery could tell his was partner was furious with him as he tried to calmly come up with an excuse to the ladies as to why his cousin had to suddenly leave, but Destery could care less.

The ghost may be fast, but Destery practically had wings.

"You! Miss!" Destery shouted, hoping to get her attention, only failing. There were so many people around he ended up drawing multiple ladies' heads.

Why is she here? To steal again? Why is she not dressed properly?

"Ghost!" He screamed and watched in relief as she slowed down and turned her head. Her silver eyes widened, as if it was she that had seen a ghost, and he knew she remembered him.

In a sense, Destery was pleased. In another, he was irritated when she attempted to run again.

A chocolate colored horse appeared, detached from its carriage, and wild from fear at the sight of her. Instead of running in the opposite direction, the animal gained the courage to face her head on. Only the ghost did not see it coming. Not yet, at least. Not until it would be too late.

People were screaming, pulling each other out of the horse's way, wondering where it was going and what had overcome it's senses.

"Ghost girl!" Destery's screamed. "Look out!"

She turned to her left just as the horse lurched forward and kicked her with its heels. But its attempt was futile as the horse went right through her.

Destery felt foolish for worrying. Of course she cannot get hurt. She was a ghost, after all. But she still appeared shaken. Like she had never been hit or walked through before.

The girl turned from the crazed animal and hopped over a stout rock wall.

Destery dodged the horse and hopped over the barrier, stomping onto something thick as he came to a steady land.

"My hand!" a girl screamed, and he instantly lifted his right foot that had trampled onto a slim, pale palm.

Destery turned around and saw the ghost pull herself into a sitting position, her nightgown dirty from the dried soil that she had fallen on. Her black hair was an untamed mess and she was busy inspecting her hand, not even questioning why it hurt in the first place.

"Excuse me, are you the phantom?" Destery was baffled by the sight of the now nontransparent ghost.

She hopped to her feet, eyes glued to the ground, but Destery could tell that she was afraid of his voice. Afraid of him.

"You do know me. I was calling to you," he reminded her gently.

In response, she sprung over the wall and into the crowd.

"Wait! What-" Destery followed after her when someone rammed into him.

"There you are! Do you know what I had to do for you?" Kasey grabbed him aggressively. "I had to abandon those precious flowers! I had to sacrifice my needs for you! What are you going to do to make up for it?"

Destery tried to shrug him off, but it was too late. The strange spirit yet non-spirit had disappeared. Perhaps for good.

Destery did not believe in coincidences. Or fate, destiny, or any such things. But today was a chance. A chance to get some answers, and he lost it. How could he have let her leave so easily?

"Why did you suddenly abandon ship?" his socius demanded.

Destery hesitated and thought up the best explanation he could. "I do not know. I thought I saw something."