• Sir Charles Baker was odd, Jane decided, with his wide blue eyes and his explosive conversation, constantly shifting his opinions and expression, one moment as open as a butterfly and the next as prickly as an anemone. He, however, was a safe person. Savannah had told her to ask him anything but to take his answers with a grain of salt. (The first time they spoke, had had asked her what the salt shaker was for.)

    Jane tried to practice her small talk on him at lunch sometimes. She sat with Savannah, Charlie sat with Dexter and Sadie. She walked across the hall and stood next to his chair, and asked quite clearly, "What is your favorite band?"

    Sadie and Dexter exchanged glances and stared at her; they were safe people too, but they tried to leave whenever she spoke. But they would have given her a better answer; she was fairly sure that there was not a band called, "Oh, all kinds. I usually only like a few songs from each band, though, if I even remember what the band's called. I guess that's insulting to the bands, but unless I actually meet them in the street, they'll never know. But I guess Ludo is my favorite at the moment." He smiled.

    Jane paused, confusion taking over as she considered where to let the conversation flow go next. She knew about confusion- it was her tool. The first step of fear was confusion. Fear followed confusion. Beside, she was out of conversation paths to follow.

    She spun on her heel, her heart beating a little too quickly for her liking, and sat primly beside Savannah again. Savannah had one of her indiscernible expressions on again, one eyebrow raised, one hand being a pillar for her chin while the other lay across her crossed legs.

    "So?" Savannah prompted, kicking her leg a little and leaning forward. "What'd he say?"

    Jane frowned. "He said that his favorite band was... many bands? But only a few of their songs?" She had learned to add the question marks to sentences without question words because it was an unspoken way of asking for confirmation on something she did not know without asking the question.

    Savannah chortled. Jane frowned, wondering if Charlie was playing a joke on her. Savannah and Charlie were fond of jokes. Jane didn't understand why making someone say foul words were funny. Maybe it was genetic... but wait, Charlie was adopted. Some kind of funny osmosis, then?

    Savannah drew her out of her reverie by speaking with huge gestures that her adopted son had obviously gotten one way or another. "Well, that's just Charlie. He answers honestly, like you do. Don't ever ask him to give you a more specific answer, by the way, because he'll list every band name that he can remember, which is a whole lot because he doesn't forget."

    Along the rapid flight of her hands, they had picked up a fork with a bit of noodle stuck to it. Jane stared down her nose at it, wondering if Savannah was sticking it in her face so she would eat it. She glanced around covertly. Nobody else was feeding each other, except for Sheridan and Riley. Charlie had told her that they were a Special Case and to not do anything that they did to each other unless somebody else was doing it first.

    Hesitantly, Jane opened her mouth. Savannah withdrew the fork, looking puzzled. "Yes?" She asked.

    Jane thought for a moment. "No?"

    Again, Savannah laughed, covering her mouth with the hand still holding the fork. Funny osmosis, definitely, if Jane had started to become it.

    Jane smiled, not knowing that her teeth had been covertly sharpening themselves and that it was a bit too wide to be physically possible. She thought she was getting the hang of it.