"In the minds of children, friendship is a vow. In the minds of adults, it is a liability."
— The Treatise of Misremembered Youth, penned by Gottfried the Grey, former tutor to House Adlerheim
Morning came far too soon. I faked a yawn, stretched, and put on my most convincing I'm-a-normal-child face. Johanna seemed to buy it. She made breakfast, asked the usual questions about my day, kissed my forehead, and went off to her herb field. Gertherd left early, but not before tousling my hair and calling me a "proper little scribe." It was all very ordinary, which made acting much worse.
The walk to daycare felt longer than usual, too. Or maybe I was just walking slower. The scenery around me was all a blur, and I couldn't focus on the world around me. All I could think about was the warning, and Elisabeth, but even then, I couldn't laser in my focus on those thoughts. Every sound - wagon wheels, birds singing, distant hammering - was just a little too loud, and a little too distracting.
Theo was waiting outside when I arrived. He beamed when he saw me.
"There you are! I've been waiting all morning! I thought you were going to be late. Did you bring the turtle book again?"
He held up his own worn copy of Darwin the Turtle Goes to the Market, the corners bent and half a page falling out. It was a copy designed for children double our age that the daycare procured for the two of us, as the replacement teacher had decided to start teaching the other kids how to read.
"Yeah," I said. "I've got it."
Theo fell in beside me as we walked toward the playroom, rambling about how Frau Klein had promised to read out a new story today - something with dragons and ducks, and going on about how he was definitely going to win the counting game this time because he'd practiced with his mother.
I nodded and grunting when required, making the right noises and trying to smile. But something in my chest had knotted itself so tight that I couldn't quite breathe. The walls of the building felt much closer together than they really were, and the open walls of windows, once cheerful and painted with flowers, looked like watchful eyes. Like a goddamn panopticon.
Inside, the room was a mess of cheerful chaos. Blocks, ribbons, cracked chalk - little hands busy drawing or painting or sorting beans into bowls. The new teacher had really outdone herself - it somewhat resembled a modern-day, well-funded classroom, so clearly she had the ambition. Theo ran off to join Gus and Maria building a tower out of wooden cubes, and called back to me.
"Come on! We'll make it bigger this time, I promise!"
I hesitated, my feet rooted near the door. "Maybe later, you go ahead."
His face fell for half a second, before he shrugged and turned back, already laughing at something one of the other kids said.
I wandered toward the corner in which I usually resided, now overtaken by Frau Klein. She kept the books there, and I picked one at random, and opened it to a page that I didn't even bother reading. Not that it would have been fun to read anyway - there are only so many picture books a twenty-year-old can read for months before going insane.
My eyes slid off the words, and all I could focus on was how easily someone could just walk through the door. How easily someone could be watching through the windows.
They said stop looking, but I didn't look. Not really, at least. I just found what they left for me.
I looked up and scanned the room again. Frau Klein was patching up a little girl who had grazed her knee, and one of the younger toddlers was chewing on a wooden spoon. No one suspicious, no coins, and no notes. Just children. Ordinary, happy children.
My eyes then moved onto Theo. He was showing Maria how to stack two blocks without them falling. His hands were careful, his face focused and kind. He even laughed whenever the tower collapsed, not minding at all.
Something inside me cracked. He was innocent - just a regular four-year-old raised by a couple monsters. He didn't know any of it. Not about Elisabeth, not about the note - if those two things were even connected at all.
And if I kept spending time with him, they might use him to get to me, or ruin that innocence of his. I couldn't let that happen.
He caught me staring and waved. I looked down, pretending I hadn't seen him. Then, he came over to me, slightly out of breath.
"Do you wanna help with the big tower now? We've got, like, six blocks left!"
I shook my head. "I'm tired."
"You can just sit with us, then - you don't have t-"
"I said no."
It came out too sharp. His face went still.
"Okay," he said, faintly.
He went back to the others. Didn't ask again.
The rest of the morning passed excruciatingly slowy. I didn't join in on the painting, or clap along to the song about the farmer and the goose, or listen in on the story about ducks and dragons. I didn't even take a second bit of bread at snack time. I just sat there, folded in on myself, whilst the world spun happily around me. Frau Klein tried to speak to me out of concern, but I just wouldn't budge. She shot me one of those looks which definitely meant she'd be discussing my behaviour with Johanna, asking if I hadn't been sleeping well or had any other issues going on outside of daycare. Not that Johanna would know.
Only those coin people would know.
I caught Theo glancing at me once or twice, his brow furrowed in quiet concern. He didn't smile agian.
When Johanna came to pick me up, I walked straight on over to her without saying goodbye.
And that, somehow, felt worse than the note.
*Theo POV*
Rich didn't smile at me today. Not even a little bit.
I was waiting outside, bouncing on the balls of my feet because I was so happy to see him, but he just looked tired. I thought maybe he forgot the turtle book again, so I held up mine real proud, and he said he brought his too. But he didn't take it out. He always takes it out if he really brought it.
I didn't mind. Maybe he just didn't want to carry it, and that's okay - books can be heavy sometimes. And besides, we can always share the book together. That's what we usually end up doing anyway.
I talked about ducks and dragons and mother's counting tricks and everything that happened the past day and night, but he didn't laugh. He usually laughs whenever I mention the things mother does with me.
Inside, I tried to build the biggest tower with Gus and Maria, and I called him over to help. He's the best at making the base steady so that the tower doesn't fall, and I knew we needed him if we wanted to make the tallest tower possible with all the blocks Frau Klein gave us.
He didn't come. He just said "maybe later" and looked away like he didn't want to see me.
I kept looking over just in case he changed his mind. He always changes his mind when I bring over the triangular blocks, says something about slopes and slipping. He really likes tower building, and says it's much less childish than everything else we do. But he didn't even look up.
So I went up to him. I asked nicely. I said he could even just sit next to us if he didn't want to build - he didn't even have to do anything at all. Just be there and smile with us.
But he said no. Loud. Like he was mad at me. I wasn't sure what I did wrong - maybe I talked too much? He couldn't look me in the eyes, and he looked exactly like how he did the first time I met him.
I went back to Gus and Maria. I helped Maria find the green block she liked, and I tried my best to smile and play, but it felt like I had a pebble stuck in my chest, right in the middle where it hurts a bit.
I watched him sit by the bookshelf. He didn't turn any pages. He just held the book and stared as though he had forgotten how to read.
When his mother came to get him, he didn't even wave goodbye.
Maybe I did do something bad.
I don't know what I did, but I knew something was wrong with Rich.
I'll have to ask mother for advice.