Siera

Her door was slightly open. Not out of carelessness, but to air the room. The rain made the building feel heavy, and the girl who lived there didn't like the musty rooms.

Something small rolled across the hallway floor and slid into the room. A plastic lid, perhaps. Round, unfamiliar. It slid under the table and stopped in the far corner.

Sierra turned her head slightly. Just enough to follow where he had stopped. Her eyes remained closed. She could hear no voices yet, but there was movement in the next room. Furniture shifted against the walls. Someone was opening boxes. Quietly, but unusually. Someone came through the next door.

She crossed the room carefully. She felt around for the object. Then she stepped through the doorway and held it out.

Her palm was open, waiting. She didn't ask whose it was. She didn't say anything at all. She just stood there, quiet, offering it back.