Zelda Vivas did not belong here.

The shared dorm seemed to go on for miles, from the front overlooking the main road, to the back of the room, a slit of window staring gloomily at a meagre garden where the grass was so long that the snakes had probably established society. Bunk beds were assembled in two ordered rows, spaced evenly apart with a small table. Girls occupied every space, whispering to one another, reading books or doing homework on the rough spun cotton bedsheets.

Zelda swallowed. She was not welcome in this hostile, alien environment. Something about the dystopian feel of the fake smiles and pressure to be perfect for the matrons drove constant dread to boiling in her gut. So what, she didn't have parents anymore? So what if her mom and dad had died in that stupid car crash? Zelda could stay in the apartment with the baby and live off the inheritance they kept for her. She could sell lemonade in a stall or something. People loved lemonade, right? That made money.

"Here's your bunk, Zelda."

Priti's voice dissolved Zelda's fantasy, from the bright landscape of her home to the rock-hard top bunk that was now hers, in the dreary surroundings of the orphanage.

Orphanage. Adults liked to call this place the adoption agency. Sometimes foster care centre, if they were feeling particularly creative. But Zelda knew what it really was. None of those phrases brought connotations of terrible living conditions, horrible matrons, or the lonely isolation from the outside world.

"I want to stay with the baby." Zelda turned to Priti, not moving a muscle towards the tiny space. Her tiny space. "I want her right next to me, in a cot."

"Jane will be staying in her own room, where the nurses can keep an eye on her." Just as she spoke, Jane's eyes blinked slowly open, and she wrestled in Priti's arms. "Oh, you are a sharp one, aren't you? Ears burning?"

But Jane gurgled – a sure sign she was about to start wailing. Zelda opened her arms and Priti lowered her gently into her sister's arms.

"Hey, hey, it's me. Chill. Sssssshhh."

At the familiar face, Jane faltered. Zelda counted herself lucky this time. Not always could her mere presence settle Jane's cries; sometimes, Zelda thought, she was crying for their mom and dad. A mom and dad who were no longer here to comfort her.

"Jane doesn't like any of you," Zelda said, focusing on Priti. "She should be with me."

Priti seemed to bristle at the insult, but instead of scolding Zelda, she smiled thinly. "She cannot stay here with the other girls. It's too loud and she will wake everyone. She'll be placed safely in a separate room."

"Then I'm sharing that room with my sister."

"We're not going to do that, Zelda."

"She's four days old! You can't separate her from me!"

"Four days is not enough to establish her emotional connection to you. She can become plenty familiar with our highly-trained nurses." She gestured to the bunk. "I'll leave your things there. You'll be introduced to your bunkmate soon."

Zelda grounded her teeth together. Her parents wouldn't have stood for this. Their death so raw on her conscience, she could almost believe that they'd walk through the door, teasing Zelda for falling for such an elaborate prank. But no one came. Zelda was alone with Jane, Priti, and hundreds of other parentless children in this miserable waste of existence that was their new home.

Funny how two days could make all the difference. Funny how two days ago, Zelda had been dropped off at school by both her parents, and then she was picked up from school by neither of them. Lucky one survived the crash, of course. She looked down at Jane's content face, her blue eyes wide and curious and absorbent of the world. They looked like their dad's eyes.

Tears fought their way up Zelda's throat. She pushed them down.

She would be pushing them down for a long time.

Milly acted the perfect angel to the matrons and the parents, but unleashed the true devil beneath when Zelda was trying to sleep.

Between grief counselling, sorting out her assets, old men lawyers come to buffet her about news of possible court cases, and tending to Jane, Zelda did not have a lot of time to herself. Even if she hated the bunk, hated the room, hated everything, this was now the only space she could call hers. Her only moment of respite.

"Would you stop kicking the bed?" she hissed down at Milly.

"I'll kick it when you stop sleeping in it," Milly hissed back, her voice blending with the darkness of night. "This is my bed."

"It's not your bed; it doesn't have your name on it. Think I'd know if it said bitch on the side."

Milly gasped. "You swore! You swore! That's illegal!"

"Get over it."

But Milly, as usual, threw off the covers and lunged towards the door. For the third time this week, Zelda would probably get punished again where instead of being let out into the sunshine, she'd be forced to stay inside the White Room, as the matrons called it – a plain room with only a chair and a table – to sit and reflect on bad behaviour.

Whatever. What was one more time? What was sitting in that room forever?

Any solitude was good in this shitty place.

Zelda rolled to her side and shut her eyes. In her dreams she was back at home, laughing as her father tickled her stomach and her mother grabbed pictures for the photo album. Grief bowled her over so heavily right then that she nearly missed Priti and Milly bursting back into the room.

Priti was level with the bunk by the time Zelda opened her eyes.

"I heard you swore at Milly, Zelda. Is this true?"

"It's true, Matron!" Milly wailed, uncaring of the other girls asleep. "She called me the B-word!"

"She was kicking my bunk!"

"Liar!" said Milly.

"Zelda." Priti sighed, as if only Zelda's name brought shame to her. "I'd like you to apologise to Milly."

"I want to go to sleep."

"You're disturbing all the other girls," she said in hushed, impatient tones. "Apologise to Milly."

"No."

"Then you'll be in the White Room until you do. Understand?"

"Whatever."

"And you won't be able to visit Jane," Priti said, dressed in false authority.

Rage flashed in Zelda's chest. How dare they? How dare they take that away? It wasn't a privilege to see her sister. It was a goddamn right.

Zelda turned away. "Screw you."

She ignored Priti's response. It was all going to be the same anyway.

When Priti finally left, Milly kicked her bunk non-stop until she fell asleep. Zelda was wide awake now, adrenaline coursing through her veins, thinking of elaborate ways to tie Milly to a tree and conveniently leave her for the grass snakes. One week here and it was already the worst experience of her life.

Maybe she could run away? But go where? Her mom and dad had no siblings, and her grandparents were already dead and gone.

She was alone. Even with Jane, she was alone.

Zelda remembered June twenty-third as the day the matrons betrayed her.

"Where. Is. She?" she screamed. The White Room's walls echoed the words cruelly back at her.

Veronica was the secondary adoption manager at the orphanage, but she wasn't as soft-hearted as Priti and didn't bow even to Zelda's most reasonable requests. This was one of them.

"She is fine, Zelda. The couple are just discussing options and meeting your sister," she iterated. "Wouldn't you be happy if Jane went to a home?"

"Not if I'm not there with her! She's my sister! We both get adopted or neither of us do!"

Zelda weighed her options. How did she get through that door to the agency office, where the adoption discussion was taking place? How did she get passed the giant that was Veronica, who was standing at the door like a hockey goaltender?

Desperation filled every crevice of her body. What if they liked Jane enough to take her away today? What if they left Zelda behind in this place forever?

What if Jane never remembered her?

"That's not how adoption works, Zelda," Veronica said, ignoring Zelda's plea. "The couple only expressed interest in babies."

Pacing, Zelda thought of a plan. She didn't give a damn what the couple thought they wanted. If they wanted Jane, they would get Zelda, too. That was that. No discussion. But to convince them of that, she needed to be there and not trapped in this ridiculous punishment room.

"Fine, whatever." She hunched her shoulders, trying her best to look needy. "Can I go to the bathroom? All this talk of adoption is making me anxious."

Anxious. Key word. It got the matrons every time.

Veronica raised an eyebrow, but stepped aside. "All right. You're still on punishment though, so I will escort you there and back."

Perfect. Zelda slid out from the room, enjoying the momentary offering of freedom that the sunlight provided. Down the thin, pasty corridors, passed the study area and the kid's playroom on the other side of the complex, waited the dingy toilet and shower rooms. The route was already forming in Zelda's head – she'd have to duck by the manager's office on the far left wing, but from there she could skip passed the main entrance and to the adoption office, lickety-split.

"Don't be long," Veronica warned, eyeing Zelda sternly down the bridge of her beaky nose. "I won't allow you to spend too long in there."

"I need to poop," Zelda said before shutting the door in Veronica's face.

That felt good.

She turned. The girls' bathrooms were split into two sections – one for toilets and sinks, the other for showers. Zelda checked the cubicles. Unoccupied. Good. No one to snitch on her today. She crossed to the other side where the frosted glass window was bolted. The matrons hadn't figured out she knew the trick to escape yet – she'd been frugal with her last attempts so as not to reveal her secret exit – but today that was going to change. She'd give this up for Jane. To make sure she wasn't leaving without her.

The window cracked open a smidge before the bar attached to the frame prevented it from opening fully, but Zelda twisted the hinge. Useless thing was old and came undone with some force, allowing the window to widen to full. As quietly as she could, Zelda reached out a leg, then her other, until she dropped down onto the grass of the side lawns.

No one around.

Zelda crept along the building's perimeter, crouch-walking by the office window and sprinting passed the main entrance walkway, until she came upon the window for the adoption office. Wide open, because adults were always in there, discussing adoption with would-be parents and guardians. No need for child locks and prison bolts there.

"— born on June the first," Priti's voice wandered into Zelda's ears, all perky and customer servicey. Fake and gross. "She's not even a month old."

"That's a terrible tragedy," said one voice. Male. Angelean. Distinctively uppity as if raised in the palace. "She'll never know her real parents. What a horror for such a young child."

"Oh, absolutely, which is why we're so keen to find her a loving family sooner rather than later," said Priti.

"Does she have any medical conditions?" asked another voice. Also male. Very deep. This one was coloured with a southern accent – not as far as Paloma. Maybe Midston? It sounded like it came from New Orleans. "It's imperative we discuss whether we're able to accommodate."

"I understand completely, and no, she has no prominent medical conditions. Here, her medical record from June second." A rustle of papers. "She's quite healthy."

A little gurgle. Jane. Zelda's haunches rose. So this gay couple were thinking of stealing her sister? Not if Zelda had anything to say about it.

Taking a deep breath, Zelda crouched, grabbed the lip of the window, and launched herself inside. She could tell instantly by how her arm popped that she'd propelled way too hard, and smacked her shoulder upon landing in the room.

Several screams happened at once – Zelda couldn't tell who was from who as she rolled onto the carpet and hit the steel chair of one of potential adopters. Paint burst behind her forehead and she yelped, crawling back, as the world righted itself in a vision of colours and stars.

"Z-Zelda!" Priti yelled. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

Too dizzy to answer, Zelda looked up from her spot on the ground. The man staring at her was blurry at first, but coming too, she made out the vivid red of his hair. So red, like a carrot. Wide brown eyes were staring at her with a mixture of disbelief and horror, attached to the thin, tall frame that had jumped to standing position in shock.

He crouched immediately. "Dear lord, are you all right?"

Blinking, Zelda remembered her place. My sister. She was in the hands of the other man. A broad-shoulder, muscular hunk of a man, with dark skin, buzzed hair, and green eyes – amused green eyes, though they were trying hard not to show it. He cradled Jane with so much care it was like he'd been handling babies all his life.

"M-My sister!" she croaked, forcing her voice to come through. "Y-You can't adopt my sister without me!"

The redheaded man looked alarmed, whipping to face Priti. "Sister?"

"Zelda, you cannot come bursting into the office like this!" Priti came around the desk. "It is extremely impolite!"

"Yeah?" Zelda ignored the man's outstretched hand and jumped up. "Well you can't foist my sister up for adoption without telling me! That's extremely impolite!"

Priti looked about to burst. "Zelda—"

"Why don't we all calm down?" said the muscular man. He was rocking Jane in his burly arms, and despite the heated energy in the room, she was obliviously reaching out to touch his face. "I'm sure there's been a misunderstanding."

"No misunderstanding, Mister Big Man," Zelda said, puffing out her chest. All the more to look confident. Authoritative. "I'm Jane's sister. My name is Zelda."

"Mister Big Man?" Big Man laughed.

Redhead laughed too. "That's new. Why don't you tell us more, Zelda?"

Priti's jaw grounded back and forth, but she smoothed her pencil skirt. "Of course, that can be arranged—"

"In fact, why don't we chat, just the four of us?" said Big Man, glancing kindly at Priti. "It might be good to straighten the situation. I'd like to hear Miss Zelda's thoughts on Jane."

"I-I can assure you—" Priti began.

"Would that be all right, Mrs Vandermeer? We won't be long."

Zelda had never felt so good when Priti nodded politely and shuffled her way out the door. Finally, after nineteen days in this shithole, and something was going her way.

Then she faced the pair. Redhead and Big Man. Suddenly it dawned on her. This was it. Her first chance at adoption. To be taken home by someone. She searched quickly through her thoughts for a revelation of some kind – for some sort of relief, or joy at the prospect. But nothing came. All the other kids made such a big deal out of it that Zelda was sure it was something she wanted too. But now faced with the situation, she wasn't so sure.

Big Man offered Jane to her. "Want to hold her?"

"Yes." She took Jane from him, and quickly added, "Er, please."

Redhead gestured to Priti's chair behind the huge oak wood desk. "Take a seat?"

In Priti's chair? Oh, she'd killed Zelda for such disobedience, and it was all the more reason to sit there. The huge swivel chair was built for a big adult, like Big Man, and Zelda fell into it, dwarfed by its size, but it was more comfortable than her bunkbed by miles.

"Well, this isn't how I planned today going at all." Redhead laughed. "My name is Rudy."

"And I'm Joseph," said Big Man.

"You're married?" Zelda asked. Probably extremely impolite, but whatever.

Both of them grinned. "Six months ago, actually." Joseph brandished the ring on his finger. "We've been on a long circuit through adoption agencies all over Angeles since then."

"Well you can end your search now," Zelda lifted her chin, "because you want me and my sister."

"Oh?" said Rudy, sitting back and clearly amused at her brazenness. "And why is that?"

"Because I'm not letting you take her without me, so." She hastened to add, "And also we're both adorable."

They both laughed, which was definitely a good sign.

"Well, truth is, kiddo," began Joseph, "that we were only in the market for one child. A baby."

"Why can't you take two?"

Joseph said sheepishly, "We're not sure we're ready for two."

Zelda looked down at Jane – at her soft, curious face. She could see why Rudy and Joseph wanted her. They'd start from scratch raising Jane from baby to adult, with no knowledge of what horrors befell her before this day. But Zelda had history, knowledge of their old life and what it could've been. Was that a liability to a couple who wanted to start from square one? Was it an unattractive prospect to Rudy and Joseph?

But then… if she let them take Jane away… what were the chances of ever seeing her again? Her only blood connection in the world, the only family she had left… gone.

Then Zelda would be truly alone.

She held Jane closer to her chest. "That's nice, but I am not parting with her, no matter what Priti or any of the matrons say, so you'll have to pry her from my hands, and you won't do that, because you don't want her to cry."

"You make a compelling argument," says Joseph.

Then he stood up.

Zelda's heart dropped into her chest. She'd lost. She'd lost the chance.

"We'll need time to discuss it," Joseph said, further drawing a gash in her chest. "And with Mrs Vandermeer."

"Yes, I think that would be best." Rudy stood too, but he fixed her a smile. "We'll stay in contact, all right?"

Jane's blanket gathered in Zelda's fist, and she looked away. "Sure."

They summoned Priti back, who came in with Veronica and peddled their most deepest, sincerest apologies for the unexpected interruption, but Joseph kindly waved them all away and agreed to come back to talk another time.

Another time. Adult speak for: never.

But Zelda latched tightly onto Jane, even as the matrons scolded her and finagled her down the corridor, back to the White Room. At least they were together.

They were alone, but together.

A week later, Priti asked Zelda to follow her to the agency office in front of all the other girls in the dorm.

As it was not a scolding or a reprimand, the other girls were as surprised as Zelda. A trip to the agency office meant one thing: potential adoption. Who? Why? Zelda glanced down at her shabby black top and worn jeans. It would have to do; there was no waiting around. She quickly composed herself to follow Priti from the room, not forgetting to turn and shoot Milly the smuggest of grins before turning the corner.

"What's this for?" she asked, nerves bubbling beneath her skin. "Who is it?"

"It's the couple you… met last week," she said, her glare unhinged. "Rudy and Joseph Bezoodenhoot-Leewenhuk."

"What kind of—" But Zelda cut herself off, because as right as she was that the surname sounded fake as hell, this was also her chance rising from the dead, and she was not going to jinx anything by mocking it. "Is Jane coming?"

"Veronica has gone to fetch Jane, yes."

So the couple had come through after all. Had to be a first, as most adults always said stupid things like I'll think about it but never thought about it, or I'll send it by next week but sent it two months late. Rudy and Joseph had kept their promise to discuss her and Jane both, and here they were, back again.

Zelda had resigned herself to perpetual lonesomeness since they both walked out of the office, and now hope leapt within her. She tried to discourage it, rein it in like a wild horse, but as soon she stepped into the office to the sight of a redhead and a hunk of muscle, the thought abandoned her entirely.

This could be it, she thought. This could be our ticket.

Veronica, holding swaddled Jane, followed Zelda inside and shut the door. Both Rudy and Joseph rose from their seats.

"Hello, gentlemen," said Veronica, bringing up a smile that could cause diabetes. "I hope we didn't keep you waiting."

"Not at all." Joseph grinned at Zelda. "Good to see you, Zelda."

"Hi Mister Big— er, Mister Joseph."

"And hello you." He eagerly received Jane into his arms, who gurgled in delight. "Did you miss me, silly? Did you miss Big Jo?"

Rudy rolled his eyes. "Sheesh. Hello, Zelda."

"Hi, Mister Rudy."

Veronica dragged out two extra fold-out chairs and gestured to the tray on the desk, home to a generous pitcher of sweet tea and a plate of chewy cookies. "Let's all sit. I've prepared some tea and snacks. For the adults." She glared pointedly at Zelda.

Zelda wordlessly retracted her arm, grumbling.

"So, how are you?" asked Rudy.

"I'm fine," said Zelda. Stupid nerves, she thought, forcing her eyes to the ground. For some reason she was finding it so hard to look either Rudy or Joseph. "You came back."

"… Yes?"

"I didn't think you would."

"Oh." Rudy let out a huff. "Of course we would. We… we did say we would, didn't we?"

"Zelda, don't you have something to say first?" asked Veronica, who turned her pinched frown on her. "Something to do with the way you conducted yourself last meeting?"

"Right. Sorry," Zelda said quickly, even though she wasn't. "About launching into your meeting with my sister."

Rudy raised an eyebrow. "Mmm," was all he said. The pause was there for Joseph to add something, but he was too focused poking Jane in the cheeks and making her giggle. Rudy nudged him and coughed.

"Oh!" Joseph said. "Er, yes, thank you, Zelda. I— we appreciate it."

If Veronica approved, Zelda wouldn't know. She didn't look at her at all, her attention stolen on how happy Jane looked in Joseph's arms. The small talk continued – shock entered Zelda's system as Veronica diverted the topic to Zelda's health records, personality tests and interests, though the whole time she couldn't be too mad at how personal it felt as Joseph rocked Jane to a quiet sleep.

"It must be known," Veronica continued, "that Zelda has… issues with the other kids."

"I don't have issues," Zelda protested, bubble burst. "The other kids have issues. I'm the only normal one around here."

"Such as that she frequently feels on the defence," Veronica said, as if Zelda hadn't spoken. "Though I think that's evident."

"Do you have any problems at school?" Rudy asked. "Other kids, teachers?"

Zelda opened her mouth, but Veronica cut in smoothly, "A few detentions here and there, but nothing abnormal."

Rudy frowned, and said, "Do you, Zelda, think changing the structure of your schooling would be an issue?"

"It's quite possible," said Veronica, "but hard to say—"

"Hey, I am right here," Zelda snapped. "I can answer my own questions."

"Zelda," Veronica chided.

"No, no," Rudy said, smiling, though his brow had dipped. "Please let Zelda reply. I'd like to hear it from her."

Oh wow. Someone sticking up for her against the matrons? That was rare. Veronica had the heart to look chastened, at least. "Of course," she said quietly.

"No," said Zelda, raising her chin. "No, no problem. I've got friends but I easily make new ones. I can handle a new school."

"Oh, no, you wouldn't be at school." Rudy grinned sheepishly, hands a restless muddle of fingers. "I must've forgotten to clarify. Both Joseph and I work at the palace. As in, the palace of the royal family."

Zelda's jaw dropped right onto the floor.

"You're kidding."

"I am not," said Rudy proudly, like he was glad to have inspired the awe in her eyes. "I work as valet to His Highness, Prince Roy, and Joseph is head of their security team."

Holy guacamole.

"Shut. Up."

"Zelda!" Veronica chided again.

But Rudy just laughed. "I'm serious!"

"No waaaaay. Like… the royal family? At the palace? With like… thousands of bathrooms and all-you-can-eat whenever-you-wanna-eat?"

"Humph, don't tell the kitchen staff that," Joseph chimed, finally ripping his gaze from June's face. "They don't take kindly to midnight snack runs."

This was too much to take in. Rudy and Joseph, what Zelda thought was your average married couple living it large in LA's suburbs… really lavished in an untold splendour that Zelda couldn't even comprehend.

"So do you, like… live at the palace?"

"We do," said Rudy. "Also have a cottage in Crescenta, but both of our jobs keep us occupied at the palace. If we were to adopt you both, we'd hire a private tutor for both you, and Jane when she comes of age. Best of the best. I'm sure I could pull on my contacts for it."

That sounds very final. They'd thought about the future of Zelda's education. He'd said adopt both. That was a sign, right? Surely the universe wasn't so cruel as to dangle this carrot (like Rudy's hair) in front of her?

"I'm sure that would be best for someone of Zelda's calibre," said Veronica. Zelda didn't miss the vitriol laced in her words. Calibre. And what exactly did she mean by that?

"Would you mind, Miss Robinson," Rudy said, smiling, "if we talked to Zelda alone?"

Veronica blinked. "But we have yet to discuss—"

"Zelda appears more than capable to answer her own questions. I'd just to like to talk to her about a few things."

"Yes, she is most capable." Veronica stood and bowed her head. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to knock on the door. I'll be waiting outside."

The winds of tension left as Veronica did. Zelda sagged against the chair. Who knew having that horrible lady in the room might've killed her chances at being bouncy and fun to prospective parents?

Rudy exhaled. "Well, now that she's gone, we can finally talk normally, hey?" He reached forwards, grabbed the tray, and offered her a cookie. "Want one?"

Zelda reached for one, but hesitated. "Veronica will kill me."

"I have an idea." Joseph took the cookie, broke off a crumb and popped it in his mouth. Then his face soured and his cheeks bloated. "Well, I'm full. You might as well have the rest."

Genius. A sudden well of affection fountained through her. It had been weeks since she'd had a cookie. They were considered reward foods for good behaviour, and Zelda being Zelda, she hadn't earnt a reward here since… well, never.

Still, she took the cookie gingerly. A little stale, but the chocolate chips burst sweetness into her mouth, and she relaxed. "Yummmmm."

Rudy smirked and took a cookie for himself before placing the tray on the floor.

"Joseph and I talked long and hard about you, you know. All week."

"Every waking moment," confirmed Joseph.

"About me?" asked Zelda. "Not about Jane?"

"Well, about you both," Rudy clarified. "Like I said, we were… really only planning to adopt one, a baby. It's much easier to adapt to life at the palace when you've grown into it."

"You think I can't adapt?"

"I think… it'll be an adjustment period," said Rudy kindly. "It's not just school. It's how you hold yourself, your dress code, your deportment, manners, very existence. We represent the royal family in many ways, and that responsibility would fall on you, too."

Whoa. It was hard to take in. Zelda rested her head against the chair.

"Not that we'd want to scare you out of it," said Joseph, eyeing Rudy. "It's fun, but there are rules."

Determination drove her to sit back up, stare both him and Rudy in the eye. "Well it's a good thing I'm super smart and a human chameleon, and can therefore blend with any environment seamlessly."

Joseph chuckled. "You think you'd want that?"

"Yes," she blurted. "Yes, I would."

Rudy and Joseph exchanged a glance. There was pause, hesitation – was Zelda losing her ground?

"I really am super smart. My teachers say I'm a shoe in for Ivy League, whatever that means. Harvard or something. And… er… I like sports and activities. I can kind of bake, too. Not very well but it's something. Three months ago I made a great beef wellington. And I'm funny. Also very modest."

Joseph burst out laughing so loud that Jane woke up instantly. He cursed under his breath as she began to sniffle and clench her fingers, but with his gentle rocking, Jane quietened to a hum.

"You don't have to sell yourself, Zelda, promise," he said. Then he faced Rudy. "Well?"

Rudy shook his head, smiling. "I think my opinion from before we walked in here just sort of… solidified."

"Same."

"What? What opinion?" Zelda asked desperately. A bad one?

Joseph winked. "We may have already made up our minds before coming here again. You made quite the impression on both of us. So… we'd like to move onto the next step. Try a trial period."

"What… what's that?"

"As much as I want to scoop up Jane and take her home with me," Joseph said fondly, "we have to go through a trial period where you come live with us for a while. Then we decide if we're the family for you, and you decide if you're the child for us."

"Can't take you to the palace just yet," said Rudy, more to himself than Zelda. "There's a lot to prepare for next month. The coronation, Camilla's return, the prince's birthday party …"

"But after that," Joseph said, "we'd like to have you and Jane around, if you want. It's up to you."

They… wanted her? They wanted them both? It had felt like a million years since her parents died, when it was only weeks, and now there was another couple that… that actually liked Zelda enough to take her away from here. Sure, maybe Jane was doing most of the heavy lifting and she couldn't leave the orphanage until after July, but it was… something.

"You… you really mean it?"

"Yep," they both said at the same time.

"And… you won't forget about me and Jane?"

"We'll come visit every week and take you both out for cookies," said Joseph, grinning. "Since you've seemed to inhale that last one."

"Maybe no cookies for Jane, though," said Rudy sagely. "She has no teeth."

"That is a fair point, Ru," said Joseph, stroking his chin. "How about milkshakes?"

"We can't do that! It might be too cold!"

"But we can't take her out for baby food. That's not fun."

"We should be safe over fun though, right?"

"Can't it be both?"

"… Well, yes, but I don't want to give her brain freeze when her brain isn't fully developed."

"Okay, then what about blended cookies?"

"Dear lord, that's not nutritious at all. In fact, that is the antithesis of nutritious. If you look it up in the dictionary, nutritious synonyms would say cookies blended together by Joseph in an attempt to be fun."

As Rudy and Joseph bartered back and forth, Zelda bowed her head, staring at her lap. It was almost unconceivable that throwing herself through a window – twice – had worked in her favour. And for a good couple too. Rudy and Joseph… they seemed friendly. A family.

Something wet fell on her lap, and with a start, Zelda realised she was crying. Don't cry, you loser, she thought. Weeks here and she hadn't shed a tear once. Why now? Why when finally people were being good to her? Sniffling, she wiped her arm over her eyes.

"Hey." Rudy pulled out a pack of tissues and offered her one. "What's wrong?"

"I promise we'll give Jane cookies somehow," said Joseph.

"No, it's not that. I just…" Zelda laughed, and swallowed even though it hurt her throat. "I don't know. After… after mom and dad died…I thought I'd be stuck in this horrible place forever."

Rudy and Joseph exchanged furrowed brows. She suspected, even if she hadn't mentioned anything, that they knew this place exacted harsh behaviours on their charges. The low morale seeped from the walls like mouldy ooze, and Zelda all but breathed it in, every single day. Rudy reached forwards, pressed a hand to hers, and she was surprised at how warm, how cosy, the touch felt.

"I'm sorry about your parents," he said quietly. "I hope… I hope we can do them justice."

Zelda nodded. It was more than enough for her. At least for now.

"Do you think you can survive here until July?"

"I can do that."

"Can you try to be well behaved?" he asked, a little more wryly.

"I can try."

Rudy leant back. "There we go. It won't be too long, I promise. Time will fly by."

"It'll be worth it for all the ice cream," said Joseph, winking, which made Zelda laugh.

They chatted a little more, Rudy and Joseph regaling Zelda of hidden tales of the prince, Roy, and his family. Zelda couldn't fathom the balls and parties and invitations and jewellery, all the riches and wildest dreams come true. Rudy was keen for Zelda to meet the princess, Gail, as she was of the same age with similar interests. Perhaps she'd be a good role model, he'd said, but Zelda wasn't too sure if all that pink wouldn't make her barf.

Eventually Veronica manhandled her way back inside, too nosy to stand outside the door for the rest of the meeting.

"Ah, the time," Rudy said as Veronica sat down. "Thank you. We really ought to be going."

The smile that dropped from Veronica's face was the most satisfying thing of all.

"Right, yes, it has been a few hours, I suppose." She accepted Jane from Joseph's arms and they exchanged contact details. "Ahem, Zelda, what would you like to say to the Bezoodenhoot-Leewenhuks?"

At once Joseph whirled around, his eye twitching restlessly, and Rudy grabbed his arm. Immediately Zelda knew what was up.

"Is… is that how you pronounce your surname?"

"No," Joseph intoned smoothly before Veronica could interrupt. "It's Be-ZOY-den-out LAY-wen-hook."

"Huh." Then Zelda grinned. "All right. Thanks for meeting with me, Rudy and Joseph Bezuidenhout-Leeuwenhoek."

They left with the biggest grins on their faces. Zelda thought she might like to bottle the moment, as hopeful as fairy lights dancing in a jar, and keep it forever. When they had left the premises, their large car speeding into the distance, Veronica turned on Zelda with a cold glare, but said nothing, and promptly ushered her back to the dorm.

But Zelda was too elated to do anything, to snap back. She climbed her bunk and fell to her bed, laughing loudly, with no care for Milly or the others who were hounding her for answers.

It wasn't the end. Not quite. There was still the trial period, and maybe after all this, Rudy and Joseph would decide she wasn't for them. But just to try? To experience life outside these prison bars? It would be worth every second.

She rolled over to her side and stared out the window. The overgrown grass swayed pleasantly in the wind.

No, it was true. Zelda Vivas did not belong here.

But she was starting to get an idea of where she did.

A/N: Hi everyone! I planned to post this tomorrow because I won't be updating tratr, but I heard through the grapevine that it's a certain South American domesticated camelid's birthday today, so you're getting content one day early! Yay! So happy birthday, llama, and I hope that despite everything going on you're having a good one! :D

This was a lot of fun to write! Zelda was always a spunky kid and when I thought of the idea of her launching through the window, I knew I had to write this. I feel I should note I kind of shot myself in the foot when I wrote the tsats' epilogue detailing how Rudy and Durante decided in a month-long span to definitively adopt Zelda and June; the process irl is a little lengthier than this, but alas, let's assume Zelda and June were on trial period for a long time, even after R and D secretly decided to adopt them both. And I hope it brought all the warm post-marriage Durudy family fuzzies.

Let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading!

~ GWA