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Orsay being some kind of prophet and she had dismissed it. People said all kinds of crazy things. But clearly she’d had some profound effect on Francis.
    Orsay didn’t seem to know what to say next. She looked at Nerezza, who quickly filled the void. “The Prophetesswishes to help you, Mary.”
    â€œHelp me?” Mary laughed. “I actually have enough volunteers for once.”
    â€œNot that.” Nerezza waved that off, impatient. “The Prophetess would like to adopt a recently arrived child.”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œHer name is Jill,” Orsay said. “I had a dream about…” And then she trailed off, as though she wasn’t quite sure what the dream was. She frowned.
    â€œJill?” Mary repeated. “The little girl who was terrorized by Zil? She’s only been here a few hours. How did you even know she was here?”
    Nerezza said, “She was forced out of her home because she was a freak. Now her brother is too scared and weak to care for her. But she’s too old for the day care, Mary. You know that.”
    â€œYes,” Mary said. “She’s definitely too old.”
    â€œThe Prophetess would care for her. It’s something she wants to do.”
    Mary looked at Orsay for confirmation. And after a few seconds, Orsay realized it was her turn to speak and said, “Yes, I would like to do that.”
    Mary didn’t feel quite right about it. She didn’t know what was going on with Orsay, but Nerezza was clearly a strange girl, brooding and even, it seemed to Mary, a little tough.
    But the day care didn’t take older kids. It couldn’t. And this was hardly the first time Mary had temporarily sheltered an older kid who then found another place to get her meals.
    Francis seemed to have been vouching for Orsay and Nerezza. He must be the one who had told Orsay about Jill while Mary was sleeping.
    Mary frowned, wondering why Francis had been in such a hurry to leave. Rebirth day? What was that supposed to mean?
    â€œOkay,” Mary said. “If Jill agrees, she can live with you.”
    Orsay smiled. And Nerezza’s eyes glittered with satisfaction.
    Â 
    Justin had wet his bed sometime in the night. Like a baby. He was five years old, not a baby.
    But there was no denying he had done it.
    He told Mother Mary and she told him it was no big deal, it happened. But it didn’t used to happen to Justin. Not when he had a real mommy. It had been a long time since he had peed the bed.
    He cried when he told Mother Mary. He didn’t like telling her because Mother Mary seemed like she might be getting sick or something. She wasn’t as nice as she used to be. He usually told Francis if he had to. Some nights he didn’t pee because he didn’t drink any water for practically all day. But last night he’d forgotten about not drinking water. So he had, but just a little.
    He was five now, older than just about all the kids at the day care. But he was still wetting his bed.
    Two big girls had come and taken the singing girl away. Justin had no one to take him away.
    But he knew where his house was, his real house with his old bed. He never used to wet that bed. But now he had a stupid bed on the floor, just a mattress, and other kids stepped all over it, so that was probably why he was wetting his bed again.
    His old house wasn’t very far away. He’d gone there before. Just to look at it and see if it was real. Because sometimes he didn’t believe it was.
    He had gone to check and see if Mommy was there. He hadn’t seen her. And when he opened the door and went inside he had gotten too scared and he had come running back to Mother Mary.
    But he was older now. He’d only been four and a half then, and now he was five. Now he probably wouldn’t be scared.
    And he probably wouldn’t pee in his bed if he was at his real home.

SIX
57 HOURS, 17 MINUTES
    DAYLIGHT, BRIGHT AND