Christine glanced back at Argent once, just to see it was taking the stairs carefully, and almost tripped on a step between her slowed pace and her mother’s hurried one. Mother had packed clothing into a bag, and carefully went through a list of all of the basic essentials she had placed there. There was a waver in her voice that Christine couldn’t identify, but could tell something was wrong and it made her nervous. When she reached out and took her mother’s hand, Mother gave her a smile.<br/><br/>“Don’t mind me, Christine. I have a mother’s worries. Don’t trust everyone. There are lots of bad people out in the world.” She wanted to add that she wouldn’t be there to protect her, but the words wouldn’t come. “Keep Argent close to you.” Those slipped through her lips before she could taste how bitter they felt. She was entrusting her daughter to the care of a ball of metal. “Stay safe.” It was a mother’s wish. She kissed her daughter’s forehead and handed the girl the bag.<br/><br/>“Now. Let’s find something to put Argent in quickly before the men become impatient.” She let her daughter into the kitchen. Tucked into the corner of the pantry she pulled out a large glass jar and lid. Christine smiled at the sight of the jar. It was not too big that she couldn’t hold it easily, but it was bigger than Argent’s first container and would give it more room.<br/><br/>“Thank you, Mother,” Christine stood on tiptoe and kissed her mother’s cheek before turning to Argent. “Argent. We found you a new home so you can stay hidden and safe.” She moved the jar and attempted to put Argent in it the same way she had the other container, hoping that it would work and Argent wouldn’t resist too much.<br/><br/>When everything was packed and as ready as they could make it on such notice, Christine and Mother went to meet the two men. “I expect you to take care of my daughter,” Mother told the two, her voice stern. Then her resolve seemed to waver slightly. “Will…will she be able to write at all?” Her voice was the same no-nonsense it had been, but her eyes were hopeful and sorrowful.<br/><br/>Christine stood with her bag in hand between her mother and these strange men. She knew she had to go, and that Mother thought she would be safer leaving, but she did not want to. She wished she had not lost her temper at the school. If she hadn’t, she could have stayed. But Mother told her to go, so she would. Even if it made her sad.