The first day of my new “job” passed without me really doing much of a job. Sisi hid behind the desk or followed her dad, not sparing me more than a glance. That said, I got to see some of what Hyraj did, which made me appreciate what she was doing for us even more. Pages of numbers, all written by hand. The paper wasn’t even lined, no grids, so I couldn’t imagine how draining it was to do all that all day.

Needless to say, I was extra nice to her when we went home. Well, all I could really do was take her plate after dinner and wash it up, but it was the thought behind it.

The next day, we left early again and joined Mr Arl and Sisi at the office. I kept doing what I’d done yesterday. When breakfast and lunch arrived, I brought them some, refilled his mug with tea through the day, water for Sisi. The rest of the time, I sat at my spot and knitted.

After lunch, needing the toilet, I left my things there. A moment alone, I wondered if my plan was really going to work. It pretty much always had at the orphanage. Just sat near them, reading a children’s book aloud. I couldn’t do that in the middle of an “office”, but I thought the knitting would work, something kids here would be interested in?

Walking back, I couldn’t think of anything else right now. Drawing, maybe, but I didn’t know how expensive paper was, never mind if I could get colouring pencils. I hadn’t looked too closely at the pens, but they needed to be dipped in ink….

My idle thoughts came to an abrupt stop upon entering the main room. Over at the table, seemingly unnoticed as everyone else was busy working, Sisi had snuck over, looking at my knitting.

A smile came to me.

As quietly as I could, I snuck up on her and then softly asked, “Is it pretty?”

She was a runner, not a freezer, the fright sending her in a hasty scramble back to her dad, hiding behind him as she clung to his leg. That set him off, broken from his concentration. He glanced at her, then at me with a stern look in his eye, then back to her as he let out a sigh.

“Had… did Sisi’s mother knit?” I asked, almost messing up the grammar. Still wanted to give a good impression.

He shooed with his hand. “Her grandmother”—mother’s side—“did when she came for the funeral,” he said, quiet voice like he was speaking to himself.

I had wondered if Sisi was like the little girl I knew, but it seemed like she wasn’t. At least, I doubted he would speak so normally about someone who disowned his daughter, so it was probably just the case the grandmother lived far away. If there were cars or trains in this world, I hadn’t seen any yet and Hyraj hadn’t told me of them.

“That is it.”

He tapped the table with his thumb, a silent “yes”.

I wanted to say more, to ask more, but bit my tongue. Didn’t know where the line was yet. Little by little, no rush. I gave Sisi a smile and returned to my seat to pick up where I left off.

The afternoon passed, at something like six o’clock when most of the office left. I still hadn’t seen a clock, but there must have been something, somewhere, keeping track of the time. Of course, Mr Arl didn’t leave, so neither did Hyraj or I.

Once the office cleared out, it was quiet. I hadn’t noticed just how loud the scratching of pens and rustling of paper was. Really, it made me self-conscious about my knitting, needles clacking. I tried to be quiet, but, even if they were made of wood, they still made a sound when I went through the loop, a little tap that cut through the silence.

As focused as I was, I noticed Sisi come closer. No longer behind the desk, she was behind her dad’s chair, then next to it, then at the edge of his desk. Like she was tethered to it, she didn’t move any closer.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t.

I shuffled around, knitting on my lap to let her see better. She stepped back at my movement, but didn’t run away, staying there with her back to the chair. I knitted even slower, showing her how I looped the yarn and went through the loop, moving the loops from one needle to the other…. So many loops.

Little by little, she shuffled closer, but never left the safety of her dad’s desk. That was fine. I wasn’t casting a magic spell, after all. This kind of thing took time.

While I mostly used my noticing-when-busy skill for kids, I noticed Mr Arl moving too. He glanced over at her, then took a longer look, softly smiling, reaching out to pat her head before pulling back his hand. Scared of disturbing her, I guessed. He glanced at me for a moment too, but our eyes didn’t meet; he probably didn’t even know I noticed since I was looking down at my knitting.

The four of us stayed about an hour later than the rest. He would have stayed longer, but Hyraj dropped off some papers and pointedly said, “I am leaving now.” Pulled out of his work, he took a look at Sisi and sighed.

She had been watching me until Hyraj approached, now hid behind her dad again, still had a tired look to her eyes. I was glad Hyraj came, the last half an hour spent thinking of how to bring up that she needed to eat and sleep soon.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

In my rush of relief, I said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr Arl, Sisi.”

Mr Arl gave me a look, confused smile tugging at his mouth. “I suppose you will see us tomorrow?”

Before I embarrassed myself more, I gave a little wave—remembering the wave Hyraj used—and turned around, waiting for Hyraj at her desk. My cheeks felt so hot, I was sure she would see them glowing when she looked at me. Thankfully, she only said, “Ready?”

“Yes.”

Stepping outside, I looked up and already saw some darker clouds racing across the sky. Only a few days before the next rain? Well, it was the stormy season.

We walked back in silence, ate in silence, then sat in silence for a while. I had my knitting to keep me busy now, just that it was mostly undoing the last few rows after noticing a mistake I’d made earlier. I had sort of focused more on showing Sisi than the actual knitting….

Hyraj rested for a while, sitting at the table with her book closed, but eventually opened it. Before she started reading, though, she asked, “Are things going well with Sisi?”

“I think so,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

“That is good.”

I smiled to myself, such a Hyraj conversation.

In the morning, we went through the same motions as the day before, the only difference now how Sisi watched me from the closer side of her dad’s desk. Well, there were times when other people came to his desk (usually Hyraj) and she would scurry to the back for a bit.

But lunchtime wasn’t the same. When the food arrived—kind of a curry with mash?—Hyraj came over to me. “Shall we go have lunch in the village?”

I didn’t think much of it, guessing she didn’t like the food today. “Of course. Can I… serve for Mr Arl and Sisi first?”

“Of course.”

So I lined up for that and, waiting, I had a good idea. After bringing food for them, I asked Mr Arl, “Would it be fine for me to leave the knitting here? I am going out for lunch.” As I spoke, I tried to tell him with my eyes that Sisi could play around with it if she wanted to, but his lack of reaction made my stomach sink.

“To watch it? I think there’s no need to worry,” he said, making a small motion with his hand as he spoke.

Ah, it clicked. I still wasn’t all that good at “speaking” with my hands, but tried to gesture from the knitting to Sisi without her noticing. It took him a few goes to understand, but it looked like he finally did, smile coming to his tired face.

“That is it, we wouldn’t want an accident, of course,” he said.

“Of course,” I said, smiling.

Mission accomplished, I went over to Hyraj and she led us out into the village. A strong, warm wind blew, clouds covering most of the sky above us, but the rain hadn’t started yet. Underneath us, there was still mud in patches. The hot weather and sunshine had dried up a lot of it, but, in some places, the water had settled rather deep.

Rather than the bakery, she took us to the inn. I wasn’t going to complain since we’d eaten sandwiches for breakfast the last few days. That said, what she ordered wasn’t all that different to what the office’s cooks had brought in.

Back in my world, I didn’t know much about, like, Indian food—well, the Indian food you could get in England. To me, curry was a jar of orange-coloured sauce poured into a pan with leftover strips of roast chicken, served with a packet of microwaved rice.

The style of food here seemed more like real Indian curry to me. A thick sauce, lots of bits in it, full of flavour. People always talked about the smell and the flavour and, if it was like this, I could see why. It didn’t taste… all blended together. The vegetables, the spices, the sauce—you could taste them all.

Walking back to the office, I had a spring in my step. If good food wasn’t already enough to put me in a good mood, coming to Mr Arl’s cubicle, I saw my knitting had definitely been moved.

He didn’t notice me at first, eyes tightly shut as he rubbed his forehead. I couldn’t imagine the kind of headache this work gave you. So I left him for now, taking a moment to fill up his mug with tea and Sisi’s with water. Some water for me too. I didn’t mind the tea, but felt bad since I didn’t actually work here.

When I put Sisi’s mug down, he opened his eyes, maybe the light thunk alerting him. I smiled and took half a step back from his desk. He looked at the mugs, then smiled back at me while doing another little gesture.

Sisi was watching us. Knowing that, I took another step… not literally. “I don’t know if Hy—Miss Hyraj told you, but I’m an orphan,” I said. Well, a “no-parents”.

“Is it that? My condolences,” he said, and I noticed his tone was softer—like when he spoke to Sisi.

Focused on letting Sisi know that, I only now realised I had no clue what to say next. After a moment of silence, I slowly said, “That is it,” and hoped something would come to mind… but it didn’t.

Out of options, I just awkwardly smiled and shuffled back to my seat, bringing my knitting with me.

For a good hour or so, I sat there, stewing in my embarrassment. Then I had to stop the self-pitying because Sisi had come closer. Not just the edge of her dad’s desk, but up to the big table I was sat at.

“Hello, Sisi, is there something you want to ask? Or you want to watch?” I whispered.

She looked so small, hunched over now she wasn’t clinging to her dad or peeking over the top of his desk. So close, I could appreciate how nice her hair was, thick for her age, but fluffy, perfect for braids.

“You have no mama too?” she whispered, barely louder than the scratching pens and rustling papers. But I heard, had to hear in case she couldn’t muster the courage to ask again.

“That’s right.”

Her hands fidgeted, or maybe not? I thought I noticed some gestures her dad made. Well, if she did, I didn’t know what they meant. “She died?”

“Mm, I don’t know.”

I expected a reaction from that and I certainly got it; she looked up at me, some of the hair covering her face parting as she did, a cute wrinkle between her eyebrows and a cuter pout on her lips. Kids loved showing their emotions on their face and I loved seeing them.

“That is it… my parents decided they don’t want to be parents, so I went to a home for children with no one to look after them,” I said. A rehearsed speech, kind of based on how I used to tell new children at the orphanage why I was there.

“Oh,” she mumbled, looking back down.

I wanted to pat her head so badly, such a cutie. But I didn’t. Kids needed their personal space and boundaries too. “It’s different to you, but a little bit the same too. That’s how it is for everyone, right? We have things the same and things different.”

She didn’t seem to react to that, hard to tell now that she was hiding behind her hair again.

“Well, I am going to knit some more now. I don’t have a mama to show me, so I’m learning to do it by myself—do you like it?” I asked.

After a long few seconds of silence, she tapped her thumb and forefinger. That familiar gesture that meant “yes”.

“It maybe is hard, but can I teach you? I want to practise if I have a daughter,” I said, making mistakes now I was “off-script”. Still, I was sure I made enough sense for her to understand.

Second after painful second ticked by, making me doubt I had properly gauged how hooked she was, until she finally made that little gesture again.

I’d done it.