It's late in the evening. Dinner was a few hours ago, but the food wasn't nice again. That happens in an apocalyptic world; the food isn't always nice.

She did see some of the nice food in the fridge when Jorge opened it. Brenda whispered they should sneak out of bed to steal it, then eat it all.

So she's just drawing what she saw in the stimulation of the day, waiting for the clock to hit eleven.

The drawing isn't very special. Just a few guards that are camouflaged against a gray wall, guns in their hands.

Exactly when she finishes and has hung it on the paper-covered wall, it's eleven. She immediately jumps up, pressed the door handle down, and steps outs—

"Siren."

Her head snaps up in fear.

Right. Of course. Jorge often puts his men in front of the girls' bedrooms, so no intruders can come in or the girls get out of their beds to do dangerous things. He doesn't want to risk losing them, like almost happened in the past with a Crank.

"I needed to pee," she says quickly.

She recognizes her best friend by the dark beard, even in the dark. "I already sent Brenda back to her room. I know what the plan was."

Sighing in disappointment, she steps back into her room. There's no point in arguing. Now she just hopes he won't snitch to Jorge.

Amery follows her inside her bedroom, likely to make sure she really is in bed with her pajamas on and no other devices in the room.

But he locks the door. Slips the key in his pocket.

"You don't have to watch me from inside my room," she says. "I promise I won't go. I really do."

He sits down next to her on the bed. Compared to the eight-year-old, he's enormous. "How're you doing?"

"Uh, good," she says slowly. They have a lot of talks, but never this late in the evening. Jorge is strongly against staying awake until midnight and both Amery and Siren are aware of it. "And you?"

"Good," he says. His hand lowers itself so it's resting on the bed.

"What is it that you want?"

He looks around the room with a sigh. "Just a chat, Siren. I like your room. Did I ever mention that? The drawing are cool. How many are there?"

"A lot. I don't know how many. My drawers are full of them, too."

"You've been getting very good, Ren."

Her gaze softens. "Thank you."

The hand that was on the sheets before slowly trails over to her leg, where his fingers run over her skin. She shivers.

"I probably shouldn't have dresses in pajamas like these with the cold weather outside at night."
She motions at the oversized shirt and biker shorts Jorge gave her. The shorts fit perfectly, the rest doesn't.

"I think you're dressed beautifully, Siren," he murmurs. The hand squeezes her knee a bit. "Very beautiful."

"Oh. Thank you." She swallows, unsure. He says it in another way than he normally would.

"So—"

"I'll just lie down." Shaking his hand off her leg, she covers herself all the way under the sheets. "Good night."

Slowly, he gets off the bed. His eyes are fixed on her for a few seconds, but then he nods. "Good night, Siren."

"...is everything okay?" She then wonders quietly. "You're acting off."

"I'm okay. Just had a rough day."

"Oh." The girl sits up again, no longer at unease. "Do you need to talk about it?"

"No. I'm an old man and you're just a little girl. There is no need for me to burden you with—"

"I tell you about my problems all the time. I can help you."

But he shakes his head. He runs his hand down his beard before he speaks, "I had a bad day. That's all."

She wraps her arms around his broad shoulders. When she's sad, Amery often hugs her. Now she returns the favor; he's been doing it for many years. He's been her best friend for many years. The only one, besides Brenda, who actually allows her to speak.

"Do you need anything?"

"No. A hug is just perfect," he admits.

Mentally, she apologizes for pulling away when he tried to hug her a few minutes ago. All he wanted was a hug.

From a seven-year-old. She understands that's kind of shameful for a grown man. That's why he was hesitant.

But she doesn't say any of that out loud. He'll get even more embarrassed.

"You should go to sleep now," Amery says.

"Yes. Good night."

He tucks her in like he always does, then gets up. His eyes flicker around the room until they fall on the camera in the corner.

She follows his eyes. "Does Jorge ever look at it?"

"No. He stopped a few months ago."

"So it has no purpose now."

"None," he confirms. "I'll remove it."

"Thank you. It made me feel uneasy anyway."

He rips the little device off the wall. "Good night."

"Good night!"