Once she locks the door, Nia puts her clothes back in her suitcase. Afterward, she blocks the closet door and sits on the edge of her bed.

What the hell was that all about? A woman I never met before pops out of the closet! Thank God I didn’t undress when she came in. Does Mr. Chav know about those closet passages and choose not to tell us as a joke?

Nia hugs herself and lies down on the bed. She hears raindrops pound and stream on the window and thinks of them as tears that run down a person’s face.

She remembers tears like that ran down her face when her parents left, never to return when she was twelve years old. Nia wanted to feel happy that they were going; she always wanted that to happen. When they left, however, the only feeling was sadness.

For months after her parents left, Nia took long walks alone along the canal that ran through the town. Staring into the murky mud waters below that reminded her of her own life and future-nothing but dirt and unclearness.

On one of these walks, she sat down by the riverbank and saw several stones in the grass-each one of these she picked up and rolled into the murky water.

As she reached for another stone, Nia felt the sole of a shoe, which she saw belonged to a dapper bearded gentleman holding a cane and bowler hat.

“Bonjour, are you okay?”

The man saw how quick Nia was to retract her hand, then handed her another stone. Hesitant, Nia sits still.

The man laughs.

“I see you know not to take things from strangers. If it’s okay with you, I’ll throw mine into the water.”

“STOP!”

Nia’s sudden scream almost sent the man tumbling.

“I-I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. There are fish that live in the canal, and I only roll the stones into the water. I don’t want to hurt the fish. They have lives too.”

The man smiles,

“I understand, you are very intelligent mademoiselle. I will only roll the stones into the water.”

He did so, and for the first time in months, Nia smiled. She said to herself,

“Stones fall towards the lake,

They splash, but never break.”

The gentleman looked at her with awe.

“What a nice poem.”

“Um, thanks, sir.”

“Oh, where are my manners? My name is Mr. Cash.”

“My name is Nia.”

“Do you like care games, Miss Nia?”

Until the sun set near the bayou, the two people talked about stones, poetry, cards, games, and castles.

Nia smiles to herself on the bed, then takes a deep breath.

If Mr. Cash is here, I can do my best.

As she gets up from the bed, she hears the clanging of a skeleton key, which she picks up.

Nia sees the symbol of a diamond found on a playing card.

It must belong to that other woman. I’ll give it back to her now.

She puts on her shoes and exits her room, making sure the door locks.