A winter day of piercing cold, no matter how bright the sun shown, was not a day to be spent attempting tumbling tricks over snow piles and icy cobbles. Lirssa took risks, but she was not without sense. There would be no winning of coins that day, and likely, many days to come while winter held its grip and kept people moving in their business and not inclined to pause for entertainment out of doors.

That wasn't to mean Lirssa had nothing to do or had any intention of returning to the apartment. She had places to visit, and plotting out each stop in her mind she went from foster home to foster home. Each one she caught up on the news, learned who had spaces for children to take in, who had been adopted, who had taken up apprenticeships, and who had fled back to the dark of the streets. The last of these numbered two, and Lirssa felt the bubbling disappointment squelched by a syrup of understanding.

The end of her visits had her at High Spires House at the edge of the West End. The largest of the foster homes, its visit always would take the longest. Mrs. June was working on the evening meal with three of the children helping. The other children were out at lessons, still working on studies due for the next day, or, in the case of the very young children, sleeping.

"Well," Lirssa began fingering the locket on the chain about her neck, "see, it was like this. I was tellin' Mister Jolly about the gift from Miss Eva and Mister Mason, my book bag?" She wanted to be sure Mrs. June remembered. When the elderly woman gave a twinkle-eyed nod while kneading the bread, Lirssa went on with the tale. "Only, I called him Papa Mason, because one night he got all fussy with me, just nice like, so I teased him and said 'Yes, Papa Mason' like I do with Mister Lucky sometimes when he gets all preachy. The Mister Jolly stopped me right in the middle of my story to ask me why I called him that."

Mrs. June, to be honest, had been wondering the same the moment she heard the word out in reference to Mr. Mallorek one day. The opportunity had never come up to ask. She nodded for Lirssa to continue again, glad the girl had paused, which was rare in and of itself. Torrents of information were more like her.

Lirssa, however, was not inclined to continue with the three other children in the kitchen to listen. She stood at the stove stirring the stew and thinking over the conversation in the four ring circus of her thoughts. Only when Mrs June, being most clever, realized that this was a topic children hoping to be adopted probably would best not hear and sent the three children along to play until dinner was ready.

In the instant, like a play button, Lirssa continued. "I said it was just teasing like. Like they were being all father-ish and stuff, though they aren't my fathers. Then he asked me why I didn't call Mister Ali and Miss Fio mother and father, even in play, when they acted that way. They want to be my parents, and I said that's just why. They want to be, and I'm not sure I fit there. It's like," a slap of the spoon at the stew got a soft chiding noise out of Mrs. June. "Sorry."

"Well, it's hard to say why. Just feels...icky inside saying it. Then he asked me what I called the Sarengraves when they took me in, and I told him and I called them mother and father, or mom and dad, or whatever. Then he gave me that look." Another slap of the spoon at the stew, and Mrs. June came over to take the spoon away and gave Lirssa the pan of bread dough to put in the oven.

"What look, dear?" She prodded. Lirssa evidently needed to speak about it to someone the way the story was tumbling out like stones down a mountain.

"That 'You're bibbledy' look." Slam of oven door and another, "Sorry," over her shoulder. Clasping hands behind her back, she started to walk around the kitchen table. It was full of dinner workings. It was the large dining room table where the people of High Spires would gather to eat. The only place large enough to fit them all, plus two high chairs for the babies that had been found.

Mrs. June nodded to the apology. "I doubt he thinks you are, mm, bibbledy, Lirssa."

"Well, no, but he wants to understand lotsa stuff about kids like me. That's his new research he's doin. I'm bein' written about, well, sorta. More like kids like me are. Those that grow up like me, so he asks me all sortsa things, 'cause I said I'd help him. Anyway, so he asks me why it was easier for me to call the Sarengraves that and not the people I live with now, and I said I don't know!" Repeating the tone and the frustration as they were quite there all the same.

She almost kicked at a chair, but held back as High Spires did not need to have chairs replaced because of her fits of temper. "So we talked and read and, then he said maybe I should try. That maybe if I called them maman and papa, I wouldn't feel so lost sometimes. That...somethin about creatin cutes" Cues..cues, that's it, might make it easier to build somethin or other. I don't know. He gets all wordy when thinkin big stuff out. Somethin more about needs and building blocks, well, I was done, that's true sure. And that was just the start of my day!" A big huff, arms flopping at her sides, and a great roll of the eyes.

"Just the start, hm' Well, this will certainly make preparing the evening meal go faster. My own little story teller." Mrs. June smiled. She knew already of the punching that caused the bandage of the girl's right hand. What else could come after, her smile and bright blue eyes revealed she was very eager to know.

Unfortunately, the clock chimed the hour and Lirssa lurched to grab up her bag and winter wear. "Saints and proxies," unwittingly mimicking her maman, "I better not be late for dinner! They may not be there, but if I'm not, I'll hear about it! Thanks, Mrs. June!"

She dashed to the door and jerked it open, nearly getting a wrap of knuckles on her forehead. Darting backwards with eyes wide on a young man of dark hair, dark eyes, and a stunned expression. "Oh, I am sorry, miss." He stammered and then just stood there.

And Lirssa just stood there feeling a bit of a flush to her cheeks. Finally, the young man broke from his staring with a clearing of his throat and looking past her into the foyer. "Is Mr. Ephram at home" I was asked to run this over from his office as they are urgent papers for tomorrow."

"Oh!" Lirssa shook her head and smiled, leaning a bit against the door. "Oh, no, he's not here."

"Could you make sure he gets these?" He smiled and stepped forward a little to hand the packet of papers.

Lirssa looked at them and then up at the messenger wondering how he expected her to find Mr. Ephram on his errands. Then it came to her, "I don't live here. I just visit. Let me get Mrs. June. Come in?"

He took off his cap and wiped his feet on the rug before stepping inside. With a dash back to the kitchen, Lirssa brought Mrs. June out and then went out the door herself so as not to be late, but she did look back at the young man with the dark eyes, and flushed again to see him looking at her.

There were certain things Lirssa had realized she was not going to be allowed to do. Her time was, as she discovered slowly, not her own. For example, there was no way they were going to let her stay watch over her Angel, Miss Kyrie. No, even though she had the energy and the tenacity to do it and all the adults around her looked like hell in a tenaciously held together hand baskets. In accepting family she had to accept the place they assigned to her in it - child. Otherwise, she only made things worse by fighting.

There was enough fighting going on without her adding to it. She just took her fight elsewhere.

Some time ago, Dr. Maranya had said she could find out how old Lirssa was, and of late it had been more and more tempting. It had never mattered before, but now, well, now so many things started to matter that hadn't mattered before. The urge to find out came and went as often as bird's to a nest, just flighty thoughts. Mostly when she wanted to do something and was ushered off into some cozy protection.

"There's gonna be a day," Lirssa grumbled as she hopped and caned her way down the street, "when they're gonna realize protectin me from their troubles isn't protectin at all when all it does is make me wonder and worry."

"What's that?" Nicholas heaved a breath coming up at her side. He must have been running.

"Where'd ya come from?" Lirssa snapped.

"And hello to you, too, Lirssa. What's wrong?" And his dark eyes got wider as he really looked her over. "And what happened to you?" He reached out a hand to rest on her cane hand trying to stop her.

With a tremble and a shake she got her cane free, and looked down at her bandaged foot as if it appeared just as Nicholas had. It had not, of course. A near thing that icy blast only got her boot mostly and not her body entirely. There was death whispering in that bandaged, but she stamped her cane and glared up at Nicholas. "Nothin'. Don't you have somethin' to do?"

Nicholas grit his teeth, pushing the words past them and shook the bag resting crosswise. "I'm doing it."

Glare for glare shared, and Lirssa finally broke it, turning to hop off more. "I'm gonna see a friend. Can't be late or...they'll wonder where I've gone."

"I'll walk with you. Only a few more messages to deliver and none of them are pressing." He matched her stride with a curious watching of the way she managed the cane and hop. "That didn't slow you down at all, did it' Took some doing to catch up to you."

There was a smile there heavily coated with pride. "I hope my foot gets better soon, though, or this leg will be stronger than the other."

With a shrug and a laugh, "You'll just have to hop around on the other then, right?"

Lirssa almost snapped at him again until she realized with a slant eyed glance that he was teasing her. "Don't be ridiculous, Nicholas...Nicholas— do you have a surname?" She liked saying surname instead of last name. It sounded more official.

"Grants. Yours?"

What was her surname? She opened her mouth to answer and stopped. Suddenly she was so embarrassed. Her heart began to race and it had nothing to do with the distance she had hopped. Hands were sweating and she felt a flush surge to her cheeks.

When he spoke, his voice was so calm and the smile he gave her transferred the embarrassed flush into a shy one. "Don't worry about it. Lirssa is such a pretty name it just can stand on its own."

They walked and talked, about things like what she was studying and what he was studying, though really once he got her talking about her studies he got barely a word in edgewise. His smile was enough to let anyone passing by know he didn't mind at all.

And there were those that passed by. Most smiled at the sight of the young people sharing the walk. There were, of course, other eyes and they had their purpose in watching, too. They watched until Lirssa went inside the inn. And they had their smiles.