The pages of the calendar continued to turn, and with it came the slow change in season. By now Daniel had another birthday, turning thirty-four. We celebrated it on a pleasant February weekend with the children and I, the ramiotrans from town coming over for the usual late breakfast and company. The food was wonderful and the company was pleasant with gifts of books, clothing, and a bag of groceries from Ulimi. It's funny, really, just how close we'd all grown in such a short time-- Daniel had only been here a little over three years. It was like he'd always been here, his reminding me so much of you.

Just like previous years we celebrated the occasion later for dinner as well, his enjoying cooking something nice with all of us helping. Even in the little kitchen the four of us set forth to put something together-- a creamy chicken dish with spinach, tomatoes, and a strong garlic aroma accompanied by flat pasta. It was precious watching both Riv and Sura work together to measure things and put them in the pan while Daniel and I babysat what went on the stove. Sura was so much more relaxed and comfortable now and I knew the three of us couldn't be happier seeing her smile and laugh like a normal little girl. Though still much quieter and more reserved than Riv she was still very sweet and loving, her previous home by now just a sour memory.

It was getting difficult to keep up with my work while having only a single pure charge occupying the house. Morissey did keep his word and raise my pay a few weeks following the incident with my work folder and so far that event hadn't repeated itself. It probably helped that he and I had grown a little more familiar with our Friday outings so we could get a better feel for each other as people, not just as workers. He seemed to soften a bit more and I felt a bit less intimidated with every walk around town, though the feeling of being watched constantly nagged at me. Every so often I'd hear something rustle or I'd see a brief passing shadow only to turn my head and find nothing at the source. Morissey would always ask if something was the matter, but I didn't want to scare or disappoint him, or make him think I was crazy.

I had to keep it together.

Though my pay had been brought up to what it had been prior to the incident, a few months later it would drop again as the other pure charge found a new family. While I was absolutely ecstatic for these occurrences it still stung that it hurt my finances when it happened. I was back to only my own children and no charges to help keep my income manageable, needing to take more work after hours and on weekends just to keep up with what I was making before. Sura and Riv were both growing so quickly and would need more clothes very soon, and I wanted so badly to get a set or two of sheets for Sura's bed. As much as I didn't want to and didn't like the taste I found myself turning back to coffee to keep me awake enough to work, but the caffeine made me jittery and irritable. It was less like I felt awake and more like I just felt...stimulated while being very tired.

My eyes grew dry and baggy while I toiled away on monotonous paperwork, trying to think less about the time wasted at my desk and more about what the resultant pay could provide us. From my chair I could see Daniel looking back over to me with concern, but I tried my best to rein in my irritation and tired snaps-- it wasn't their fault, after all. I worked this hard and for this long because I loved them, because I wanted to provide for them, and do so independently. While Daniel often offered to help more with my work or the household finances I didn't want to...dare I say use another person for their paycheck, even though he made much more than I. That's just disgusting and I refused to stoop that low.

I noticed on weekends how often Daniel would return from town with a look of worry, gazing back out the lobby window with his hands in his pockets. He'd seem lost in thought -- something I couldn't say he'd done in the past -- at least for a few minutes every Saturday. His reflection showed what I couldn't directly see-- an unusual, tense expression from the normally jovial nurse.

There finally came a rainy afternoon in the spring when I couldn't take seeing him that way anymore.

The children were upstairs in their room while I stepped out into the lobby, the larger man still silently facing out toward the greater town from the big front window. The pelting of the rain against the glass pane concealed much of the sound of my footsteps, my quietly moving forward to grab his arm. He turned his head a little toward me, but just resumed looking out the window instead of the usual gestures I might receive.

"What's bothering you?" I asked, looking out the window with him.

"Hm?"

"You're just staring out to nowhere lately, every time you come home from town," I observed. "You seem so tense. This isn't like you."

"Ah, that," was all he'd say.

I tugged on his arm and he looked back to me again. With my tired eyes I returned his glance, his taking his hand out of his pocket and wrapping his arm around me, pulling me into his side. I leaned into him and watched the world slowly go by under the dreary, grey sky.

"Sorry for bein' moody," he sighed. "Worried about some of the things I've been seein' while I'm out."

"What things?"

Daniel turned his head to survey the room and stub of hallway, then turned back toward the window.

"Just...noticing more and more of those staff from Morissey's organization," he quietly answered. "Used to see them here and there but as time's gone on they've been slowly increasing their numbers. Can't quite place why, but it bugs me."

"I've seen them at night, too, when Morissey and I go out for walks," I recalled. "Though at night there's only a few of them, maybe just walking down a few streets like patrol. How many have you seen?"

"Gotta be tens of 'em, easily," he said with narrowed eyes. "Seems to be at least one on every street, at least one in every building run by faradens. Ulimi's said the town vibe's gotten strange and the timing's too coincidental. Hell, even the dock workers on the south end seem creeped out by the guard down there when I come by."

"Is...any of this new?" I asked. "The behavior, I mean."

"It's hard to say. While back I remember things like kids askin' their parents about them just to get shushed, but there were far fewer of them back then. People would gawk, sure, but not much else. Thing is, I remember those at the carpentry shop remarking about a sudden business hike that kept them all real busy. Ulimi had also noticed more of the same."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Sure, for their business, but that ain't what I'm worried about. The people in town seem...quiet and worried, strangely reserved, which I've seen for myself. I don't like it."

"Change happens though, doesn't it? Maybe they're having a hard time with the change itself, even if it isn't bad."

"...For everyone's sakes, I hope you're right."

I brought up my arms and hugged onto him, leaning my face against his chest as we both continued to stand before the large window. He lowered his head to gently rub his snout between my ears like he usually would, allowing me a little sigh of relief. With his thoughts out in the open he seemed a bit more at ease, but I could tell he was still worried about it. Such things were just his nature.

"Will you be okay?" I asked.

"...Yeah, I think so," he answered. "Let's head upstairs, spend time with the kids."

We both turned to walk out of the lobby, but I briefly stopped my pace to look back out the window just once, feeling eyes on me. I reached up to tug at my sleeve, Daniel taking notice and waiting for me to catch up. Taking a couple steps I did so, his bringing his arm snug around my back as we traversed the lower hallway.

---

A few more months passed, my exhaustion growing and slowly catching up with me. There came a number of mornings when I was too tired to make or eat breakfast, my roommate taking charge to feed himself and the children and let me sleep for the extra half hour. He was kind enough to run the coffeemaker for me so I could grab a cup in the morning, my mouth growing numb to the bitter taste after a while. Aside from the effect I couldn't understand what drew people to this substance.

I'd hoped that a survey had gone out by now, but Morissey was usually quite keen with keeping track of pure charges here at the home. I had finally made enough to get both children some much-needed clothes that fit and Sura a nice spare bedsheet. It was a little victory to some, but a bigger one for me given my working at a now seventeen-percent deficit for however long-- housing Riv and the loss of both charges amounting to five percent each, with Sura another two. With the money handed off Daniel would go out and return with the things they needed, their happy faces giving me the motivation I needed to keep going.

...Just keep going.

Come a Friday evening in late spring I waited out in the lobby for Morissey, the weather now much warmer and palatable for everyone involved. He preferred walking at night when the roads were less cluttered, so he'd begun coming by around eight o'clock. With a knock on the door I carefully rose to my feet to answer, stepping onto the porch with his help and closing the door behind me.

We began our walk into town, my pace already slow from the start and with few words to spare about any particular topic. The most I could seem to do was jump at every little noise or movement, immediately feeling spied on the moment I stepped out of my home. He'd look back once or twice but say nothing until we reached a well-lit part of town.

"What's eating at you?" he turned and asked, his hands in his pockets.

"...N-Nothing, sorry," I whispered.

"Come, now," he said. "It's plain as day something's amiss and has been so for a while now. Is there some reason you feel you can't tell me?"

My face tensed and I tugged at my sleeve, trying not to dig my nails into my arm and cause a scene. He stood there in wait for some kind of response, and declining was clearly the wrong answer.

"...Just tired, Morissey," I quietly said.

"You certainly look tired. Have you been sleeping enough?"

I sighed.

"I...can't really do that with my workload and the things I've needed to purchase," I confessed. "...I'm already losing about seven hours to cuts and things like clothes are...not cheap."

"Have you perhaps considered putting your other charges up for--"

"I would never!" I exclaimed. "Th...They're my children, Morissey. I love them more than anything."

His eyes briefly widened before his brow furrowed and gaze met the dirt road. Already I could feel myself shaking, having never wanted to be this candid about my work and position to the very person employing me lest it be decided my role was not worth keeping. I hugged my front and hung my head, unsure where the next few moments would lead.

"...Well, I did send out surveys, but so far everything has been quiet," he said, fidgeting with his foot against the road. "I'm not sure when I'll have better news for you on that front, but..."

His words trailed off and he'd begun slowly advancing toward me. Every step he took had my ears and tail sinking lower, afraid to meet his eyes. The closer he got, the more closely watched I felt, like some kind of insect under a magnifying glass. The fur on the back of my neck stood on end, riding on the ever-increasing anxiety that seemed to follow me everywhere these past several months.

Finally his pace halted, stopping just in front of me.

"Reverend, please look at me," he said.

I took a deep breath and braced myself as I slowly raised my gaze to meet his. He looked back to me with a firm but gentle expression, his ears slightly askew in an almost casual manner.

"You've been one of my best employees at your rank and perhaps it's time I finally honor that," he said, placing his hand on my shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze. "I've been...hesitant to do so given your cha--children, but...you've worked very hard and asked for very little, and I really do appreciate it. It may be menial work, but it's still very important for management and paper trails. Every gear in a machine has a role to play."

I felt a chill down my spine. This whole conversation felt like it was being observed.

"...S-Sir?" I stuttered.

"How's about I elevate your pay by ten percent?" he inquired. "That would bring your current pay back up to what it was with two pure charges. Does this sound acceptable?"

My chest tightened, a pang of conflict hitting me square in the heart. This was some of the best news I'd ever been presented, yet the feeling of eyes on me clung to my diaphragm and I could barely breathe past my neck. I could feel the creeping resentment against my back, my tail twitching nervously.

"Reverend?" he squeezed my shoulder again, tilting his head.

"Do you...really mean that?" I asked.

"Of course I do," he answered, taken aback by my question. "In fact, one moment--"

He took out his wallet and fished out a few bills, offering me a small sum.

"--We'll even start this week," he finished. "That should be enough to cover for that ten percent."

I looked down to the money in my hands, my eyes quickly welling up. It was such a strange position to be in, between getting a much-needed raise and the nagging feeling of my every move being closely monitored. The two of these together was an overwhelming, toxic mix and I wasn't sure how to feel.

"I hope this helps you sleep a bit better at night," he said with a little smile. "...Perhaps even work a little less."

"I-I don't...I don't know what to say," I sniffled, trying to blink back my tears. "...Thank you."

"It is no problem. You are valued here."

After a pause I stowed the bills in my pocket, Morissey turning back around to continue the walk. I quickened my pace to try to catch up, staying reasonably close as we ventured down one of Huot's empty streets.

---