“You’re really lucky, I’m an awesome trainer. The toddlers are great, mostly little demons, but the black sage calms them right down,” Beatrix said.

Sonya peered through the reinforced glass door window. Like a bathroom after Taco Tuesday, little humans were packed together on the floor mats. In the center, like a shrine on a pedestal, sat a ceramic vase with faint smoke crawling out.

“So, this is it. I stand in this tiny room and stare out the window for a couple of hours?”

Beatrix giggled, “Of course not silly. She shimmied by Sonya and pulled out the desk chair, “You watch the monitor.” Beatrix slapped the three-ring binder beside the mouse, “This is for the observations.”

Sonya squinted at the binder. There were enough papers between each cover that the rings held a hundred and twenty angles.

Beatrix followed her gaze and elbowed her in the ribs, “I know right, paper records in this day and age? But…” she shrugged, “Can’t hack a binder. Anyways, they have their own mat, so just align the face-” Beatrix pointed at the map behind the screen, “to the position.”

Sonya flipped open the binder midway, “‘Dannie scratched his left knee twice, his right knee once.’ You’re serious?”

“Possible skin infection. Very important.” Beatrix tapped her chin, “Each parent expects at least one, five-sentence paragraph, for each child. I’m something of a model pupil so I always shoot for six.” Beatrix winked at her.

“There’s over two dozen kids in there.” Sonya protested.

“Better get going then.”

Beatrix signaled that she wanted to scootch by her again. Since the room was only big enough for a single table and chair, there was only so much dignified stretching Sonya could do to not touch Beatrix as she slid by. She didn’t open the room filled with sleeping toddlers and wisps of smoke, but rather the adjacent door that led to the hallway.

“One more thing. They’re supposed to nap for two hours. Don’t let the sage go out.” Her voice lowered an octave, “You know how they get…”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

The concrete door slammed behind Beatrix; a small click emanated from the knob because, of course, it did.

Sonya twirled in the chair as she read Beatrix’s notes.

16:32 Jack woke up, gave him a thick blanket: chills.

16:41 Jack threw off the blanket and onto another pupil, Jill. Both regained consciousness. I let both inhale some sage. Jack had more.

16:58 Jack had jumped out and climbed incense basin. Slightly agitated. Code Z133P enacted. No more issues. I recommend increasing Jack’s proximity.

Sonya paused; Beatrix didn’t mention any protocols. She dropped the binder on the table and pulled out a well-thumbed booklet that sat in the same pouch that the binder resided. Instruction Manual. Why a Church had an instruction manual was beyond her. The booklet wasn’t the epitome of professionalism. Penciled-in notes scrawled over the page.

“Z133P…” Sonya murmured as her finger slid down the paper.

Her finger stopped near the bottom of the page, a frown creased between her eyebrows. If Dick were around, he’d tell her to relax her face to “prevent wrinkles.” He said she was too pretty to have a frowny face when she got old.

Immediately, pangs of guilt shot through her, which made her frustrated. Frustrated she wasn’t out doing something about it. Frustrated she was stuck in this room. She rolled the precious few inches of space she could and tried the exit handle.

Nothing.

Sonya twisted harder; she could feel the lock resisting the movement. It was a useless endeavor, although it made her feel better. She returned to the desk and scowled at the pamphlet before covering it with the binder opened at a fresh page.

Might as well start with number one in the top left corner: Chuck Goggins. A chubby boy with dusty blond hair that fell over his face like a wet mop. His face was smooshed in the pillow and his butt was in the air. She scribbled onto the blank section titled 28.

16:09 Chuck is asleep. May need to be trained not to sleep on his face.

Sonya couldn’t believe she was writing about a rotund toddler. She was curious though. Sonya matched the number to the name, then searched for the boy on the monitor.

There. He slept directly under the sage dispensary.

Jack: 01. Scrawny. Unlike the others, he had no blanket. His tiny hand rested on the steel. Exasperated, she dropped the pen and pulled out her phone.

If Beatrix tried to confiscate it she would have bit her finger right off. She read somewhere that it was like a carrot. Sonya wondered if that were true.

She pulled out her contacts and scrolled past the usual numbers. Her finger hovered over the green call button. She bit her lip and tapped. The phone rang. Then the other end picked up.

“Dr. Brussel, I need a favor.”