Allegra had begun adapting to the school routine.

Although each day brought new challenges, she was starting to feel more secure in this environment, which, while strange, had elements that felt familiar. However, there were certain aspects of her new life that remained difficult to navigate—one of which was using the school bathroom.

At home and in the hospital, Allegra had managed to adjust to her new body in ways that allowed her to feel somewhat more comfortable. Whenever she needed to use the bathroom, she preferred to do so in private, sitting down as she always had in her previous life. This gave her a sense of normalcy amid the chaos of her current reality.

But school presented a different challenge. Here, the boys used urinals, a fixture that felt utterly foreign and profoundly uncomfortable to Allegra. The idea of standing in front of others, exposing herself in that way, was something she simply couldn’t bear. Each time she needed to use the restroom, she found some excuse to use one of the individual stalls, avoiding the urinal altogether. If necessity forced her during recess, she waited until the bathroom was completely empty before entering a stall to sit. Even though she knew this made her stand out, she preferred discretion a thousand times over the shame she felt at the thought of using a urinal in front of others.

Despite these challenges, Allegra was determined to make the most of her time at school. The lessons, though basic for her, provided structure—a sense of routine that granted her an unexpected freedom. It was the only time of day she could be relatively undisturbed, without the constant watchfulness of her new family. This allowed her to relax and explore her thoughts more clearly.

The new computer lab had become her sanctuary. Here, Allegra spent hours exploring the news, the political structure, and even the geography of this world. Everything seemed surprisingly similar to what she remembered, yet with peculiar variations that left her puzzled. These moments reminded her of her previous life and offered her a fleeting but precious sense of control over her destiny.

As Allegra reflected on her day, her thoughts wandered back to the recent family dinner. The conversation about her birthday and the gift she had requested still echoed in her mind. Her request for stocks and someone to help her manage them had been driven by a desire to regain control over something tangible and useful in a world where everything else felt beyond her grasp.

Although her family provided her with an allowance she had been saving, she knew it wasn’t enough to hire a private investigator to help her determine if her parents were in this world—or if she was truly alone. She needed to accumulate more money, and stocks seemed like a viable path to achieve that. If her parents were here, she had to find them; if they weren’t, she needed to figure out how to return to her original world.

While the idea of investing and learning to manage stocks might seem unusual for someone her age, Allegra didn’t see herself as an ordinary child. She knew that, despite her young body, her mind was still that of someone with experience and knowledge. She wanted to ensure she had options, to be prepared for any eventuality, and this seemed like a way to achieve that.

Allegra realized that, although she still had much to learn and many barriers to overcome, she was beginning to find her footing in this new reality. She knew she had to keep moving forward, one day at a time, facing the challenges with the same determination that had led her to request such an unexpected gift.