It was late in the evening. Clover knew she'd be in trouble if she was caught out out her. She hovered by a fence overgrown by bushes peeking about for a moment.  Most of this part of town was abounden, who ever lingered here we're people that didn't want to be found. She seemed like one of these as she duck through the bush. There was a hole hidden there and she stepped through to unmanaged yard. There was a path between down in the grass where people often pass. There was old abounded house before her. There was the soft glow of lamps and bodies moving around. She smiled as she headed up. Bags in her hands, "guess what I got," rather her sticky fingers had caught. She wasn't along. Everyone here had to do what they needed. They became adults and found themselves here. It wasn't like she wanted more, she did, she had aspiration beyond her reach but at least there was this house for the lost like her. It was ran by rather odd old woman, who had a room in the attic. You where allowed to stay there as long as you stayed out of attic. Every once in a while some one who tries to find thier way in and was kicked out the next day never seen again.