She walked through the pristine hallway, cupboards placed in perfect symmetry, vases filled with a beautiful array of marigolds—her girls knew to keep every nook clean and harmonious despite the dozens of children zooming around constantly. She would expect nothing less if they wanted to keep her off their cases. 

Making her way downstairs, she looked over the children’s drawings dotted all over the walls. 

The older ones would be at school by this hour, while the younger ones were likely playing in the courtyard. Robin was the head custodian of the orphanage responsible for delegating work to Trizstan’s employees. But because of Trizstan’s vast influence and business affairs all over New Baymort, many times she was expected to welcome and help him with his influential guests too. 

So it wasn’t expected of her to be with the children at all times. But honestly, she loved that part of the job more than anything in the world. Plus, she already missed those little rascals, so she decided to skip breakfast entirely and make her way to the courtyard instead.

She opened the large wooden door, immediately encased by the emanating light from outside. 

“Ms. Taylor!”

Immediately, she heard the high pitch shout of a little boy clambering towards her. She didn’t waste a second as she bent down to grab him up and plopping him on her waist, doing so in such a practiced fashion, her aching back barely felt it. 

As if a little sore back would stop her from responding to her kids’ energy.

“Now, now, Kevin. Someone’s a little excited to see me, hm?” She pinched his little cheek as the boy giggled, unable to stop her own smile at his antics.  

Other children grouped around her—Robin crouched down to pat the children on their heads. Their calls and greetings blended into one. 

“Good morning, Ms. Taylor.”

“Ms. Taylor!”

“Ms. Taylor. I’m hungry.”

Robin clocked that last complaint—coming from Vanessa. She tilted her head at her, reaching out to caress her soft cheeks. 

“How come? Didn’t you have your breakfast already?” she soothed her voice for the kids, but inside she was about to combust. 

What was that supposed to mean? Did the girls not check if the children ate properly?

The little girl wriggled from her spot. Robin’s eyes darted to her grey tunic—fixing a crease on her shoulder while the girl spoke, “Well, yes. But I want your rice balls.” 

She giggled over her smile—others joined in almost instantly. 

“Me too!”

“Ms. Taylor, I’m also hungry.”

“Please, Ms. Taylor!”

Robin exhaled. She probably should have expected this—especially since she was the one giving them her tactics: how to get what they want, how to manipulate their caretakers and teachers alike. And yet, despite this coming straight from her play book, she walked right into it. 

But even knowing she was played, how was she supposed to say no when all of them were staring up at her with those beady eyes? 

“Awe, you little daredevils,” she exaggerated the betrayal with her voice, earning her a laugh from the young ones. “Well, it’s a bit early for snacks, but I’ll start preparing it later in the day. How would you like that?”

The children cheered, nodding their little heads. Ah, it was so sweet. To bring a common snack from her home country and have these children enjoy it so much. You would think they were going to an amusement park with how excited they were.

Just as she was about to stand up, she felt a weight crashing onto her back. She resisted the urge to hiss in pain. Without even looking, she knew exactly which little rascal it was.

“Oh, Corey, dear. This isn’t the time for playing.”

“Ms. Taylor—what took you so long?” Tiny hands patted at her hair, making her panic internally, but she fought hard not to overreact. “Wahh! Your hair’s so pretty today.”

Robin knew Corey was a gentle and clever kid—he was the one least likely to mess her hair up. But she added the warning just in case. 

“Okay, Corey. Just be careful. Or else you’ll be redoing it for me.”

She could feel Corey’s tiny paws caressing her hair instead now. Wrong solution, but she appreciated the attempt.

She stood up tall, despite the little monkey still on her back—hoping to get a better angle at him but it didn’t work quite as planned. She still couldn’t reach him, and… if he were to fall from this height. 

Then she felt a sting from her lower back—this time sharper than before.

Alright, perhaps there was room to worry. But before she could figure out what to do—she heard another child running up to her. 

“Ms. Taylor!”

Robin instinctively reached out her hand to pat them on the head, and looked down—it was Kimberly. The little girl pointed to where she came from.

“Patrick broke the window!”

Robin twirled around instantly, but careful not to drop Corey.

“What window?”

Her question was met with a dozen or so children explaining in a huddled mess. It was only then that she realized the courtyard was suspiciously clear of her girls. Where were they slacking off now? Did they actually leave these kids unattended?

And now a window was broken, and she had to hear it from a child instead of the staff whose entire job was to tell her these things instantly.

They better have a good explanation for this. 

Then a man’s voice cut past all the chaos.

“Now, now, children. You shouldn’t be ambushing your caretaker from all sides like this…”