Maia was sitting on the floor, newspapers again spread out next to her, scissors and glue in reach and a scrapbook open. She was very carefully pressing a newspaper article onto a page before taking a pen and writing a paragraph next to it.

Maia sat on the floor in the middle of the living room, stacks of photos out in front of her as she was sorting them into neat piles. Several of the piles contained highschool photos, some were just recent of her and Rose. Since she had no photographs before she was eight years old Maia was a bit addicted to taking them now.