I couldn’t remember ever looking forward to “tomorrow”. All I had hoped for was the same, something I knew I could manage. I didn’t want different. I hated surprises. I just wanted the same day, the same problems, the same fights, over and over, forever and ever.

Not now.

It wasn’t this horrible rush of never having enough time for everything, knowing that something would go wrong, trying to guess what. The opposite, really. I had time to think about what I could do with Sisi that she’d like.

More than that, I had time for fun. With the shapes Hyraj taught me, I made up a matching game, a “building” game—putting together shapes to make things like houses and chairs. Stuff I could make with scrap paper. That, along with some more knitting practice and more of the shopping game and simple things like those, got me to the end of the week.

The rain had grown heavier, but not quite a storm like before. Well, I would have called it a storm back in my world, not knowing how heavy rain could be. Hyraj’s work didn’t close, though, so I went to work, only a short walk anyway.

Lighter rain carried on into the weekend, which was fine for me. I joined Hyraj on a few errands and spent the rest of the time pestering her for games people played here. For practising numbers, card games were good, but I didn’t want to teach Sisi games no one else would know. Besides, it wasn’t like I knew how poker worked either.

So it fell to Hyraj to teach me. At least, teach me what she knew.

“I should confess, these suit games are what young men prefer, much less common in our circles,” she said, idly drawing out the “cards” on loose paper I’d carefully torn.

“Well, I can come up with some simple games if they aren’t, um, good for Sisi,” I said.

Suit games, I learned, were different to rank games. Those were the two groups of games played with cards. Suit games had different suits and some special cards, while rank games just had numbered cards. Both were usually about bluffing.

Governor’s Table, Carpenter’s Double—they all had names like that which didn’t make sense to either me or Hyraj. Still, of the ones she showed me, I liked Ladies’ Lavender the most. It was a suit game, so good for helping Sisi learn that the same number could be a different suit, but the “scoring” was simple: a bouquet was made up of different-suit cards that added up to thirteen, and the winner was the first to three bouquets. Hyraj even knew extra rules to make it harder since it was a game girls played. Well, maybe I’d use those if Sisi found it too easy.

So we passed the weekend, rain falling, paper crinkling, Hyraj’s soothing voice explaining all sorts of things… as she beat me at the dozen games she showed me. A fun time. She couldn’t help but take the games seriously, a wrinkle on her brow, holding her “cards” so carefully. Learning about a new side to her, I liked that too.

The rain cleared up by Monday. Lots of puddles and mud, but my boots were holding up as well as you’d expect for goddess-given boots. Outside wasn’t the nicest place, though, humid with the ever-growing smell of “rotten” mud. Thankfully, Mr Arl’s house was well-built and kept out the worst of the outside. Doors and windows closed, it stayed cool, a lingering smell of flowers about the place; I didn’t know where that came from. Maybe something Frinnef did.

As for Sisi, she was happy to see me even before I showed her the “games” I’d made over the weekend.

“Ladies’ Lavender?” she asked, eyes wide and mouth open.

I carefully put down the flimsy cards. “You did such good counting the other day, I thought you might like this one. For the real game, we—they have to… add up to thirteen. But for practice, we can add up to ten.”

Glancing over, I saw her staring at me with such a serious expression, her hand making the little gesture as if she was nodding along to everything I said. I held back my laughter, smiling softly.

With so many new things to try, Monday was over before I knew it and, the next day, she wanted to do all her favourites again. By Wednesday, though, the novelty had worn off. Not just that, I noticed how she often went quiet and looked towards the door. At one point, Frinnef knocked something over that sounded like someone knocking and Sisi ran off to the door, ready to open it.

Coming back from the door, she looked ready to cry. Honestly, this wasn’t really my strong suit, used to comforting children whose parents weren’t coming back. Not quite the same thing.

“Do you want a hug?” I softly asked.

Already in front of me, she answered by just about throwing herself forwards, almost knocking me over. Managing to stay upright, I quickly noticed just how tightly she was hugging me. All of her little strength went into it.

I held her loosely, rubbing a circle on her back. Didn’t want to overstep and mother her, but comforting her was important, letting her have what she needed right now. After half a minute, her squeeze went slack and, soon after, she let go.

“Should we… draw a picture for papa?” I said.

Her head still hanging down, she made a little “yes” gesture.

Though she didn’t really perk up, her melancholy melted away by the time her dad did get back, only then a smile coming to her as she ran to the door again. As quiet as she’d been, I had time to think of something and, borrowing him for a moment, I checked if my plan would be okay.

“Of course. I shall let my niece know,” he said, pausing there as a rumble of thunder rang out. Gesturing at the door, he said, “Please, before it begins to pour.”

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I smiled and dutifully set off, saying a brief goodbye. No need to linger.

Outside, it was only a drizzle, but there was the promise of more, sky black as night, distant flashes, long rumbles rattling my bones. My heart pounded, reminding me I shouldn’t be out in this weather.

Still, running wasn’t safe, stones slick from the unending rain. So I could only walk at the kind of brisk pace Hyraj liked, just enough to make my legs burn. An unhurried hurry. It was funny, such a short walk, but a spike of fear came with every rumble, followed by thoughts of Hyraj. It was… thinking about the peaceful time we spent together calmed me.

But I soon remembered the promise I’d made.

Hands clenched, I rushed a little more, quickly wiped my feet for what good it did. Inside, I strode over to our room, only to hesitate, overwhelmed by feelings I couldn’t put to words. Like I was afraid she would be upset with me for not being here sooner.

I knew how silly that was, though, so took a deep breath and knocked. From inside the room, I heard the scrape of a chair moving, two footsteps, then the latch clicked and door opened ajar.

“Pleased to be back,” I whispered.

“Pleased you came back,” she whispered, opening the door all the way.

She sat back down while I settled in, my very damp coat hung up and brushed with a towel and shoes and socks left in the corner. Putting on my slippers, I couldn’t help but smile, all these little things that kept turning up for me. It was no wonder I felt so comforted when I was with her. Never knew what it felt like to be looked after, to be doted on, to have someone think about me.

Looking over at her, my smile melted away. How still she was. I knew that, no matter how long I waited, she wouldn’t turn the page of the book she was reading. Not with the thunder rumbling outside.

Well, I did know what it was like to look after someone and dote on them, so this wasn’t a problem.

The rain fell and thunder rumbled and the night passed, giving way to morning. While the rain was heavier, it wasn’t quite a storm, so Hyraj went to work and so did I, hurrying up the road to Mr Arl’s house.

Sisi was fine for the morning, but I noticed her start to quiet down as we neared midday. Smiling, I put my plan into motion, tugging her to the kitchen.

When it came to Frinnef, I still didn’t know quite what to think. She seemed nice enough and hadn’t done anything mean to Sisi, but I was sensitive to this sort of thing, knew she didn’t particularly like kids. It was small things, like the look Frinnef gave Sisi when she didn’t finish a meal, the forced smile when Sisi talked to her, how she usually spoke to me or Mr Arl about Sisi rather than to Sisi.

That was maybe one reason why she wasn’t left to look after Sisi.

For now, though, Frinnef played her part in the plan. “Oh, Sisi, Uncle Arl told me he really wanted a lal sandwich for lunch, but they only have them for breakfast at work. Can you help me make one for him and take it to him? He’d be so happy,” she said.

Didn’t Sisi just light up at that. “Yes!” she squealed, both hands flapping in what was maybe supposed to be a “yes” gesture or maybe just childish joy. Either way, it was adorable.

Despite what Frinnef had said, it was me helping Sisi with the sandwich, which was quite the test, lal’s pungent smell not something I was used to yet. Some kind of fermented vegetable? At the least, it spread easily. We also only needed to make a couple—he would still have a normal lunch at work.

Once we were done, we dressed up to go out, making sure Sisi was wrapped up tight. Cared more about keeping her dry than the sandwiches, which were just in a cloth in a basket.

The rain splatted against the door, blown by a temperamental wind. Crouching down, I asked Sisi, “Ready?”

She grinned. “Ready!”

I smiled back and stood up, one hand holding hers and the other on the door’s latch. “Let’s go!”

We stepped out quickly, shutting the door behind, already the weather pelting us with rain drops, ticklish through our clothes. Running wasn’t safe, but I could walk at a brisk pace and keep her steady as she jogged along. Splashing through puddles, blown this way and that, we made the short journey to the office.

Coming through the gate, I glanced up—hard to keep my head up with the wind and rain—and spotted someone by the front door. Someone familiar. With a last burst, I tugged Sisi up to the covered entrance, not that it offered much cover with all this wind. Still, it was good enough.

“Papa!”

With that shout, Sisi let go of my hand and threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around her dad. He staggered back, but barely. Not as much as I did when she threw herself at me.

Taking a step back, she held up the basket. “Here, papa, we made lal sanniches for you!”

Sanniches—I wasn’t sure if that was slang or her misspeaking, but it sounded cute.

It was funny. Mr Arl looked like any other middle-aged man I’d seen before, really. A face that wasn’t young any more, the bit of hair not covered by his hat showing some grey, but Sisi looked up at him like he was the most amazing person in the world, and it was impossible for some of that to not rub off on me.

The whole way back, she was skipping. Even once we were inside, she couldn’t sit still, so I ended up teaching her some “yoga”. Physical enough to burn off some of her energy without risking a broken window.

Anyway, the important thing was that she was happy. I didn’t want to make a habit of indulging her like today, but, while she was still adjusting, a little wouldn’t hurt.

Out of the two of us, I was the one getting distracted by the end of the day. The rain had been heavy earlier, now growing to be a storm, drumming loudly. Loud enough to keep my thoughts away if I stopped for a moment, mingling with my growing anxiety.

When a knock on the door rang out, I might have even been happier than Sisi—but I didn’t run over like she did.

“Okay, okay, let me speak with Miss Louise fastly,” Mr Arl said, patting Sisi’s head.

She didn’t like that, pulling away; I wondered if that was why he did it. Couldn’t wonder for long, though, his tired gaze setting sights on me. I smiled. “She has—”

He shooed his hand. “That is it, the rain is so heavy, I cannot in kind thought have Miss Louise walk home in it. Truth be said, Sisi sleeps in my room most nights anyway, and my niece is here too—would Miss Louise stay? At least until the morning, that the worst of the storm passes.”

I froze up. It wasn’t an unreasonable thing of him to say, kind to offer… but… my heart hurt. It pounded, yet felt constrained. A sharp reminder that I had been anxious all this time and it wasn’t about when Mr Arl would come back. Not exactly, at least.

The words eventually came to me, easing my aching heart—just a little. “I should return home,” I said.

“Really, I—” he began to say, only to stop at my little shooing gesture.

“It is a kind… offer, but I have something I must do,” I said, almost whispering as I remembered why I so desperately needed to go back.

He sighed and stepped aside. “Be quick, then, this storm shan’t give a kinder offer.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. Shoes, coat, and I was out the door with a goodbye. He hadn’t lied about the storm, rain almost painful through my layers, teetering as the wind blew me, all I could do to scrunch up small, try to keep the rain and wind off my skin. I hurried along the path to the gate, slipping through it onto the road and—

Someone there, I recognised their long coat, boots sticking out. Slowly, not really believing it, I raised my gaze until I found their’s looking at me. “Hyraj,” I whispered, word lost to the wind.

“Let’s go,” she said, her words reaching me through the storm.

She turned and went to walk, but I strode forward and pinched at her sleeve. Glancing back at me, her face asked a question, and I answered by holding out my hand. As if that was a cue, lightning flashed nearby, thunder rumbled. “I promised,” I said.

A second, then she reached out and held my hand, holding it so very tight. “Let’s go home.”