*Chapter 3: The Day of Adoption*
The town gate was old. Iron-bound wood, scarred by weather and time.
Two guards leaned on spears. Bored. Until they saw the children.
One straightened. "Where have you all been? Your parents are scared. Waiting at the police station."
Emily turned on Ryan. Slow. "Because of _you_ I'm gonna get punished. In a scary way."
Ryan looked at her. Looked at the guard. His voice broke. "I'm sorry."
The guard came closer. His eyes went to Kite. To the bundle in his arms. "Kite. Who's this baby?"
Kite shifted the weight. Careful. "We found him in the forest."
Ryan spoke to the dirt. "Whoever left him… they're a devil."
Emily nodded. Fast. Hard. "Yes. Yes. A devil."
The second guard sighed. "Okay. You can go in. Take the baby to the police station too."
"While you are going," the first guard said, "expect us."
Ryan and Emily said it together: "We will."
They entered.
The town was medieval. Stone houses with timber frames. Thatch roofs. Narrow alleys branching off the main dirt road.
Shops open to the street. A blacksmith's hammer rang. Bakers carried trays of bread. People haggled over cloth and apples. Lanterns hung on hooks, unlit. Evening hadn't turned to night yet.
Three children moved through it. One baby. Feet too small for the distance they'd walked.
The police station was loud before the door opened.
"—what kind of service is this? The kids were gone for at least five hours!"
Emily stopped. "Mother."
A hand touched Kite's back. An officer, coming from the street. "Go inside. Your mother's shouting too much."
Emily shook her head. "I will not."
Kite looked up. "Officer, why are you outside?"
"Because of Emily's mother," he said. Then he saw the baby. "Where did you find this baby? First, go in. We'll speak about it."
They went in.
Three women saw. Three women ran.
Arms. Tight. The smell of hearth-smoke and fear.
Emily's mother. Ryan's mother. Kite's mother.
Kite pushed back, gentle. "Mother, wait. The baby's gonna die."
His mother froze. "What?"
Then the room broke.
Emily's mother: "Where did you go? You missed school and—"
Ryan's mother: "I was scared, my son—"
An officer raised one hand. The room choked quiet.
"Where did you go?"
Kite and Emily didn't answer with words. They pointed.
At Ryan.
Ryan seemed to shrink. "I… took us. Into the forest."
*Scene cut: Officer's room.*
Table. Heavy oak. Scratched by years of rings and knives.
Basket on the table. Baby sleeping inside.
Three kids on a bench. Their feet didn't reach the floor.
Officer behind the desk. Assistant by the wall, arms crossed.
"Where did you find this baby?" the officer asked.
Kite told it plain. Morning in the forest. Box in roots. Crying. Evening road. Gate.
The assistant leaned in. "So sir, what are we gonna do now?"
The officer stood. "Wait. I'm going to use my Appraise Skill."
His eyes lit. Pale blue. The air tasted like iron for a second.
He stared at the baby. Only the baby.
The light died. He sat down. Heavy.
"I can only see two things," he said. "Age. And energy."
Everyone waited.
"Baby's age is four days." A pause. "He has Maschew Energy. Like a normal human."
Emily's breath caught. "Four days? How cruel was the person who left him there?"
The officer rubbed his face. "We can't find his parents. We'll try. But there's no chance we get them."
The assistant straightened. "I will try to find parents for him."
Kite's voice was small. "You mean… adoption?"
"Assistant: Yes."
The mood in the room fell. Like a stone in a well. All three kids felt it hit bottom.
*Night.*
Moon. High and cold. Stars like spilled salt.
Below: a house. Candlelight warm in the windows.
Inside: dinner table.
Emily. Mother. Father. A dog waiting under the table for mistakes.
Emily talked between bites. Forest. Box. Baby. Police.
Her mother set her spoon down. The sound was final. "We should adopt him."
Emily's father looked at his wife. "What? But why?"
Emily shrugged, mouth full. "I don't have any problem."
Emily's mother's voice went soft. The kind of soft that cuts. "I'm not my family's real blood either. I was adopted from the orphanage at age seven. I know how it feels to be an orphan. So I want to adopt him."
She looked at Emily.
Emily was flicking peas off her plate. One. Two. Into the dog's bowl.
"Emily!" her mother shouted.
Emily's father said nothing for a long time. Thinking. Then: "Okay. We can adopt him."
Emily and her mother spoke at the same time: "Really?"
Under the table, the dog crunched a pea.
---
*To be continued…*