Page 104 of Silent Jay

The door to my sun-filled room opened, and a young teenage girl dressed in light blue shorts and a white button-down limped into my kitchen with a tray full of food balanced on one arm.

It took me a moment to realize her limp was from a prosthetic leg that was just a little too short. Her long brown hair swayed, showing off her fanned dragon ears. A tiny brown and white scaled tail poked out of her shorts.

The tray tipped precariously. She reached out with a white prosthetic arm to stabilize it before letting it drop onto the little table in the kitchen with a clinking rattle.

“Ah, hi.” She turned to me with a broad grin on her face and pulled a set of clothing out of her backpack. “It might be small, but I brought you a uniform.”

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and squeaked, startling myself.

Memory like a steel trap, my ass.

The teenager excitedly brought her hands to her chest, the prosthetic fingers not curling quite as tightly as her real ones. “Oh, my god. You really are her?”

I took a deep breath and pushed out of the bed.

“I’m, like, so super excited.” The girl bounced, swaying slightly to one side. “I brought you chocolate chip pancakes.” She pointed at the tray. “They’re my favorite, and we only get them once a month, so it’s, like, super good timing you’re here.”

I nodded, not really understanding, but accepted the food and sat.

“I’ve never met a real human before.” She blinked her wide brown eyes rapidly. “What does it look like when you scowl? Does it still look angry when no scales come out?”

I raised an eyebrow and then leaned forward and scowled at her.

She squealed. “It does, sorta!”

She pulled out the chair across from me and sat.

Yeah, ‘sort of.’ This kid is going to walk all over you.

Probably.

I eyed her prosthetics. Sister Abby looked to be in her mid-twenties; she had years of life to possibly lose some limbs, but this kid couldn’t be more than thirteen.

The girl touched her fake arm, her excitement falling. “It’s why I’m here, at the orphanage. I was born wrong. It’s what happens when two dragon shifters make a baby.”

I thought dragon females were infertile.

I did too.

This is the stupidest conversation you’ve had with yourself yet.

It is. Stop fucking staring.

I had a million things I wanted to say to the girl, but I couldn’t even talk. Instead, I reached forward and squeezed her shoulder.

She nodded. “Just don’t stare at the other kids like that. We’re happy here; don’t take that away from us.”

I held my hands out and squeaked, desperately trying to convey how badly I didn’t want to do that.

She giggled, her excitement returning. “So, Mother says I’m supposed to get you anything you need. I’m Aria, by the way.” She waved again. “Mother is our head priestess, and she also runs the orphanage. It’s the only one on the island!”

I nodded, pieces clicking into place.

“Uh, sorry, I should have started with that. Anyway, if you want, you can follow me around all day.” She pressed her hands against the table. “Oh. My. God. You have to do that. We’ve never had a human in our classes before, and it would be, like, so cool. Anything new would be so cool. It’s too bad you can’t talk.”

I dug into my pancakes, unwilling to commit to anything.

“So, I’ll introduce you to all my friends.” She pulled the bowl of fruit off my tray and took a grape. “I like, can’t promise they’ll like you, especially if you stare at them.” She pursed her lips. “But anything new around here is at least exciting and something to do other than study. I’m so tired of studying.” She exhaled and fingered her upper arm, denting the cloth of her shirt where her prosthetic must attach to her limb. “I don’t evenknow why they make us do it. It’s not like we can be a part of society.”

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