I could not stop thinking about the fact that Rachel was way too mature to be an ABANDONED fifteen-year-old kid. When she was alone with the baby I asked her, “Rachel, you are super-wise, why are you here? I mean, you can never be ABANDONED.” She closed her eyes in pain, but she got the courage to tell me, “I was born in a rich family. The love of my life was writing, I wanted to become an author. I was greatly inspired by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and his detective stories. But my parents wanted me to take over their business one day. I wasn’t spoiled by the expensive useless gifts they got me. I would regularly visit the library and sit with the librarian, we both loved reading Sherlock Holmes. Life was amazing until yesterday. My parents burnt my writings to open my eyes and to keep me from writing. Five novels, ten short stories, twenty poems I wrote and my heart I sewed in them, all burnt to the ground. They wanted me to quit writing forever. I didn’t want to live like a puppet whose thread was in their hands, I was going to commit suicide when Peace approached me and took me here.” She was not only wise but also strong to smile after all that happened to her. My respect for her grew stronger. And now I knew his name wasn’t Mr Egypt but Peace, weird name, but I was grateful to him.

Rachel and I became best friends soon. I would make lunch for everyone in the society with Emily and Misha since the population was quite less. Cooking and baking with them was super fun.