The day after she and Lonnie get back home, Riel has settled in the library surrounded by tall stacks of books. She flips the page of the one she’s reading, a compendium of select magics belonging to Soulless from all through the Underground.

  Something around her shifts. Riel looks up and sees that Ethel is looking in. She’s carrying a large stuffed animal in the shape of a frog.

  When their eyes meet, Ethel smiles and walks towards her. Riel puts the book down as Ethel approaches the nest of books. Her hair is loose today rather than woven into her typical braids.

  No doubt she’s here to address recent events. What will the punishment be? Sleeping outside overnight with no blankets? Or even three nights, the same amount of time they were gone? Lonnie’s parents told her yesterday that they still wanted her to stay, but what if they changed their mind? What if they want her to leave now? What if the frog is Riel’s replacement and—

  “This is for you, dear child.” Ethel hands the frog to Riel. Riel plays with the toy, hugs it to her body. It’s soft, and nice. It’s for her?

  “I’ve heard that it can be helpful to have a little friend when dealing with stress,” Ethel says. She pushes a few of the book stacks aside slightly so that she can join Riel.

  Riel examines the frog. It does give her a nice cozy feeling, now that she’s not spiraling and accusing it of being her replacement. But she wishes Ethel would just get to the point. Riel tries to steel herself.

  “I have not been a very good guardian to you, Riel,” Ethel says. Riel looks up, startled. Isn’t she supposed to be getting scolded right now?

  Ethel gives her a gentle smile. “I feel it is important for you to know that I understand my own mistakes,” she says. “In truth, Alaric and I were unprepared to help you. When we found you, we did not know much about trauma or the kinds of hardships that children can endure. Lonnie always seemed to have such an instinct for how to reach you. We let our child show us the way, when we should have been more active in seeking information.”

  Riel squeezes one of the frog’s feet. How is she supposed to respond? She’s never heard an adult say something like this before.

  “I wonder,” Ethel continues. “Had we been more informed, had we done more to support you and care for you, would you have felt the need to run away?”

  And here comes the shame. Riel winces, squeezing Frog to her chest. Jeez, maybe this thing really does help. When she can squeeze this little guy, the pressure in her chest doesn’t feel quite so tight.

  “Riel, would you be willing to tell me more about why you left?” Ethel asks. “Of course I understand that you felt pressured by our decision to adopt you. But I would like to know more about how you were feeling.”

  “I thought about it a lot last night,” Riel says softly. She glances up at Ethel, who is watching her. She doesn’t look mad. Riel looks back down.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she says. Her throat feels tight. She makes a few quiet noises, uncomfortable. Ethel is so patient.

  “I ran away from the Overground, too,” she says. “I… I left people behind. My… siblings.”

  “You have siblings?” Ethel sounds surprised.

  “They’re dead,” Riel says. She pets Frog. She only really saw one of them dead for sure. But there’s no way that her brother survived after getting so sick. And her sister… maybe she is still alive, but does it even matter? Riel left her alone, and then she was gone. She wishes she had tried harder to find her.

  “I run away when I get scared,” Riel concludes. “I don’t want to run away anymore. I think I can… I want to stay here,” she says, uncertain. It’s easy for her right now to understand the things she wants to change, but she isn’t as sure about how she’s going to change them.

  “We will keep you as long as you like,” Ethel reassures. “We want you to stay here too, Riel.”

  “Aren’t you going to yell at me?” Riel asks. “Or punish me?”

  Ethel looks at her with thoughtful eyes. “Do you regret how things happened?”

  Of course she does. Riel nods.

  Ethel hums. “I would like to give you a consequence, rather than a punishment,” she says. “Do you understand what I mean?”

  Riel thinks about it for a second. What’s the difference? She shakes her head.

  “I think you see a punishment as a bad thing, which seems to be common for children,” Ethel says. “Perhaps you believe that when you receive a punishment, it means that you are a bad person.”

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  Hot shame floods through Riel’s body. She didn’t even understand that that’s what she thought. How did Ethel put it into words? Riel nods, and her eyes feel wet. She holds them wide open, hoping she won’t cry.

  “I want to give you a consequence,” Ethel says. “A consequence comes when you have made a mistake or made a bad decision, but that doesn’t mean that you are bad, Riel. You are a good child.”

  Riel sobs, curling into herself. Frog presses against her face, soaking up her tears.

  You are a good child.

  Has anyone ever said that to Riel?

  “Please can I have a consequence,” she chokes out. Maybe it will finally lift some of this guilt from her. Maybe, over time, Riel can scrub the black stain from her soul. Then maybe one day, when she finally loses her soul, it won’t be dark, and she’ll be allowed to have magic of her own. She won’t become a twisted. She won’t.

  Ethel’s hand is soft on her shoulder. “I would like you to take some time tonight and journal.”

  “Journaling?” Riel looks up. “How is that a consequence?”

  Ethel smiles. “I want you to write about what happened,” she explains. “I want you to journal about what you felt before leaving, what it was like to be gone, and when you decided to come back. Then, I want you to write about what you might have done differently, and what you can do differently in the future.”

  Riel wrinkles her nose. “Did Alaric come up with this idea?” she asks.

  Ethel laughs. “He certainly helped,” she admits. “We want you to learn from consequences, and learn from your mistakes, Riel. We don’t want you to convince yourself that you are a bad person.”

  Riel nods, hesitates for a moment, and then crawls forward into Ethel’s arms. The woman holds her, tender and gentle. Riel holds onto Frog and makes herself small.

  “I feel like a baby,” Riel says, face warm.

  “You are very young,” Ethel answers. “And you are still learning. Even adults seek comfort.” She leans down and whispers, “I have a little stuffed mouse that I hold when I am sad.”

  Riel looks up, surprised. Ethel nods.

  “What if I can’t think of ideas about how to do things differently?” Riel whispers.

  “Do your best,” Ethel responds. “It’s okay to think outside the box. But if you are truly struggling, you can ask Alaric or I to help you.”

  “Help me with a puni—a consequence?” Riel questions.

  “We want you to learn,” Ethel reminds her. “The truth is, a single individual rarely holds all the answers. People have always looked to outside resources to help solve their problems. We don’t want you to rely on us for all the answers, but it isn’t fair to refuse to help you when you need it.”

  Ethel has given her a lot to think about.

  Ethel holds Riel for a little while longer before shifting and carefully moving Riel out of her lap. Ethel meets her eyes. “There is something else I’d like to talk to you about,” she says.

  Riel can’t stop her body from tensing. “What,” she asks.

  “Nothing bad,” Ethel says. “Remember how we said that there would have to be some changes now that you and Lonnie are no longer siblings?”

  Ohh. Riel nods as warmth begins to spread across her face. “What kinds of changes?”

  “I believe Alaric has already begun teaching you about anatomy,” Ethel says. “And I am sure you understand that parents are often careful about leaving their children alone with members of the opposite sex.”

  Riel nods, face flaming. She avoids Ethel’s eyes.

  “We would like if you and Lonnie did not spend time together in rooms with closed doors,” Ethel says. “No more changing clothes while the other is in the room. And Alaric and I have discussed giving you your own bedroom.”

  This is understandable. Very understandable. Riel isn’t sure how she feels about doing any of… that—she barely knows what adults who love each other do anyways, but she does know that parents worry about that kind of thing. It might be a good thing to have clear lines so she doesn’t have to worry or think about that yet.

  She is a little sad about the idea of no more sleepovers with Lonnie, though.

  “What is on your mind, my dear?” Ethel asks. Should she say anything? Maybe it would be okay just to ask.

  “Could Lonnie and I have sleepovers on festival days?” Riel asks. “Or on our birthdays or something?”

  Ethel doesn’t look thrilled, but she doesn’t look mad. “We will discuss that as a possibility,” she says, nodding. “We might be able to make it work if you slept in a common space.” Right. So there’s no chance of…

  Riel hesitates, a sudden memory popping into her mind. “There is something else,” she says. “I remembered—before my mom died, she took me to see a healer once. Because I was really sick, and she thought I might die. The healer did a lot of other tests on me, general ones. She said that I wasn't technically a girl or a boy. Momma got real mad at her when she said that.”

  Ethel seems startled. “What do you mean?” She questions. Riel feels uncertain at the reaction. Is this bad?

  “She called me intersex,” Riel says. “She said I couldn’t ever have babies. I know parents worry about that. I don’t really care. I don’t want a baby. But I thought you might want to know.”

  Ethel’s eyes are very soft, and for a moment they remind her of Lonnie’s. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Riel. It won’t change anything we’ve talked about today, but it is good for me to know. Have you had any other problems with your health because of this?”

  Other problems? Can that happen? Riel shakes her head. “I don’t think so,” she says.

  Alaric knocks on the door of the library. Riel flushes, hoping he didn’t hear anything they were talking about. He doesn’t look like he did… but Ethel will probably tell him about it later, anyways.

  “Lunch is ready,” he announces.

  Ethel looks back at Riel. “If you have any more questions about this topic, you can ask me, or Alaric, at any time,” she says. “Ready to eat?”

  Riel nods, relieved that she doesn’t have to talk about it more right now. They get up together.

  When they get to the dining room, Lonnie is already sitting at the table, looking down, hands in his lap. His face is beet red. What’s up with him?

  A dawning suspicion grows within Riel. Lonnie likes to help his dad cook… but today, was Alaric talking to Lonnie at the same time Ethel was talking to Riel?

  Just for today, she and Lonnie can eat on opposite ends of the table, Riel decides.