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easily been Michele or
Maggie, and Steven could’ve been Adam. We all blended into one
another, even though we had different stories, even though we were
in separate flocks. Why we were separate was beginning to make less
and less sense. Together, we stood a stronger chance at reaching
the future.
    “Melody?” Her name left me before I even
realized I was speaking to her.
    “Hmm?” She hummed as she continued, this time
yanking Timmy’s hair.
    I rolled over on my stomach to catch their
eyes. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
    I expected her to say a hairdresser, like
Catelyn had been before I told her to quit, but Melody’s lips
pushed to the side in thought. “A flower.”
    “A flower?”
    Melody nodded, and her long hair swished near
her waist. “They smell nice.”
    “Like Ami,” Timmy added.
    Melody agreed, “Just like Ami.”
    Ami smelled like flowers somehow—like people
born in the Highlands were made of perfume—but I half-suspected
that Ami stole perfume from the town square. It was a rare
commodity, something hardly bought by those in the outskirts, but I
had an inkling Ami remembered where she came from, where her mother
probably still lived, and wanted something from it for reasons I
couldn’t begin to understand.
    Before one of the kids could question why
they didn’t smell like Ami, I asked, “What kind of flower do you
want to be?”
    “A pink one.” Melody stretched her arms over
her head and wiggled her fingers. “A really tall pink one.”
    Timmy watched her with disinterest, but then
his eyes lit up. “I’d be a thorny one,” he said it as if the
thought had just occurred to him. “And I’d only bloom in fire.”
    Melody’s pudgy arms dropped with her smile.
Timmy ignored her reaction and grabbed the comb from the floor
instead. “My turn.”
    Melody opened her mouth to protest when a
soft rapping interrupted her. The door cracked open before I had a
chance to welcome the person inside, and Robert poked his head in.
“Serena,” he started to whisper until he saw that we were all
awake. “Oh. Melody. Timmy. You’re . . .”
    “I’m a flower,” Melody finished.
    “When you grow up,” Timmy reminded her, and
she nodded like that’s what she meant in the first place.
    Robert’s lip twitched, but he forced a smile
as he leaned against the doorframe. “A flower, huh?”
    “We’re all going to be flowers,” Timmy said,
still trying to get Melody to sit down so he could play with her
hair. “But I have thorns.”
    “And I’m tall,” Melody said.
    “Like a garden of flowers,” Timmy added,
finally getting Melody to sit in front of him.
    “A garden, eh?” Robert looked at me, and I
shrugged before he turned back to the kids. “Well, I need to make
plans with Serena about that,” he said, softer than usual. “Do you
mind if I borrow her for a minute?”
    My heart skipped, but Melody didn’t hear what
I heard in his tone: worry.
    “We’re playing right now,” Melody said,
obviously distracted by Timmy’s hairstyling capabilities.
    “Melody,” I said her name as a warning. She
knew not to argue with Robert, but she pouted, puffing out her
cheeks like she was preparing to scream. Timmy stopped her.
    “You can play with my hair again.”
    “Okay,” she cheered, leaping to her feet,
only to turn around and stare at me. “But you can only be a
minute.”
    “Only a minute,” I promised, patting Timmy’s
head as a silent thank you. Despite being nine, all the kids played
a role in raising the ones younger than them. Without the teamwork,
we’d fall apart.
    I left as quickly as I could, but my nerves
didn’t heighten until I stepped foot into the hallway. It couldn’t
have been six in the morning, but Catelyn was there and so was
Niki—both pulled out of bed. Ami stood on the stairs, staring at
her hands, and one glance at the downstairs revealed Steven,
sitting in a chair as if he couldn’t stand up.
    My throat squeezed, causing my voice