The Lost Daughter

Chapter 2: Worrywarts

April 1965, Oakville Orphanage

It was the next morning. Charlotte woke up to the gentle morning breeze as she opened her window. The sunrise was the beautiful sighting she has ever seen.

It was early in the morning, so that means everyone must still be asleep. She went to check up on each of the rooms to make sure there wasn't any trouble.

As Charlotte went up to the third floor, she discovered the library door right open. She assumed it was left open, so she closed the door and thought nothing of it.

As all the kids woke up, they went up to Charlotte and tackled her with hugs on the floor.

"Good morning, Mommy!" all the kids shouted in unison.

"Good morning, dear children." Charlotte replied, as she chuckled and sighed.

"Anything wrong, Char?" an older kid, Tammy, asked.

"Everything is fine, dear. No need to worry about me all the time," Charlotte assured her.

They all nodded and sat at the kitchen tables, starving and waiting for breakfast to be cooked. It was hard cooking for a lot of kids, but Charlotte didn't need to worry. There were a bunch of chefs, so nothing to worry about.

The chefs cooked their specialty: Bacon, sunny-side-up egg, fries, waffles and pancakes and a glass of milk.

"Mmmmm...yummy!" all the kids said at the same time. They did love Oakville's Special Breakfast.

Speaking of food, Charlotte almost forgot the second blueberry muffin Chef Reinald gave her. She went into her room and discovered it was gone!

She went up to her boss and asked if he ate it. Everyone in Oakville loved blueberry muffins.

"No, sorry Char. I do love blueberry muffins, but I didn't eat it."

"Oh, okay. Thank you, anyway."

Charlotte asked if one of the kids took her blueberry muffin. She had taught them, especially the younger kids, several times not to sneak into her room and steal her stuff. Not without permission anyways.

She also lectured them to not steal her or anybody's stuff and to not leave doors open at night, because there would be a chance of robbers. Oakville had a lot of crime and capital punishment happening. It was always like this since 1890.

Some of the crimes (like Mary's death) were always unsolved or ruled as an "accident." The police were sometimes incompetent. A lot of criminals know how to get rid of evidence and their tracks.

If there was a chance of crime happening near Oakville Orphanage, Charlotte promised to protect herself, her caretaker friends, the chefs, the boss and especially, the kids.

Right now, there hasn't been any crime within the past few weeks. A lot of people were suspicious about it and blamed the police, because they saw them as incompetent. It was like they wanted crime to happen. They just want Oakville (maybe the whole South Carolina, or worse, the whole USA) to be in any danger possible so that they can do their job.

Why did the police rule a lot of deaths "accidental?" Was there a reason behind all these events happening? If so, why do they not look into further details or search the state for any clues?

"Earth to Charlotte," Mr. Fano, the boss, interrupted.

"Oh, sorry boss. I was stuck in my own world, again," Charlotte answered, apologetically.

"Char, if there is anything wrong, you can talk about it." the boss assured her.

"No, it's okay. No need to worry about me all the time. I'm fine," Charlotte assured him. She lied again to her boss!

"Okay, if you say so," Mr. Fano replied.

Charlotte cleaned up the tables and carried the plates and cups to the kitchen.

"Here you go, Bailey." Charlotte said to the young woman.

Bailey Keosuni was in her mid-20s. She had wavy, orange hair, which she curled or braided sometimes and sparkly blue eyes that are the colour of a diamond. She was one of the caretakers and a friend of Charlotte.

"Thanks." Bailey said. "Hey, you seem exhausted, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm alright. Like I always say, no need to worry about me," Charlotte joked.

"Okay, okay. I was just wondering," Bailey assumed.

Charlotte silently walked up to her room. The whole day, everyone was worried about her, even her boss.

She was glad everyone deeply cares about her, but she seemed frustrated too. She always assured them that she was alright, but they always saw something wrong about her.

Everyone was a bunch of worrywarts. Charlotte may have assured them on the outside, "Oh, everything is alright. No need to worry about me. I'm fine.", but on the inside, she felt like she was stupid, distressed, petrified, stressed and distraught at the same time.

It was hard for her. She was loved and cared by everyone. She loved and cared for everyone.

She decided to take a nap and a break. Luckily, the boss agreed, because she "needed to take her mind off of things."

She drifted off to sleep, hoping to get everything off her mind: crime, police, her daughter, Mary, death.

When she woke up, she realized she was stuck somewhere: stuck in her old Victorian farmhouse, with Mary sleeping by her side.

She looked at the old clock: 7:31 AM.

She looked around and took a look her old book, with the days of the week, written in Roman Numerals.

March 5, 1945

Oh no! Charlotte thought. Am I...back in time? In 1945? A week before Mary's death?