She was so excited it took her three tries to turn the key in the lock. When she finally managed to do it, though, she wasn’t disappointed. Beyond the door lay a corridor with two small rooms on the right and full bath and mini-kitchenette on the left.

Sylvia knew she would love living here this summer.

Behind her, John surveyed the walls dubiously, noting faded wallpaper and worn carpet. The place was badly in need of repairs, but, he had to admit, it was also spotless. It might not be the greatest place in town, but it was safe – he’d noticed that the lock was actually rather new and tight – and clean. Sylvia would be all right.

She was already into her assigned room, examining bed, desk, chair, closet and window. It was a simple room but more than adequate for her needs, and she unfolded the suitcase rack and laid her single bag on top. Digging inside, she pulled out a personal kit and a clock radio, fussing a little as she placed them around the room.

Behind John, Helene surveyed the room and pitched her voice so that only he could hear it. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“She has to get out on her own sometime,” he answered, equally softly. “It’s clean and safe, even if it’s a little worn. Did you see the lock? No one will get in here without permission. I just wish we had a chance to meet the roommate first.”

“But she’s only nineteen…”

“How old were we when we met?”

That brought the ghost of a smile to her eyes. “Yes, but we had not been through what she has.”

He sighed softly, gently, so that Sylvia would not see. Of course, she was so caught up in setting up the room that she probably would not have seen a circus performer. “If anything, it means she’s savvier than we are, not less.”

“You mean less innocent.”

“That too.”

She looked around the room again. “Innocence will be all too rare soon, I fear.”

In the boneless manner inherent toward all teenagers, Sylvia landed on the bed in front of her foster mother. “Innocence is for babies and children,” she declared. “I’m not stupid. I saw the lock on the door. It wouldn’t be that solid if someone wasn’t serious about letting the right people in and keeping everyone else out.”

“But would you know who to let in and who to lock out?”

“Helene. This is Nine Angel. It’s a resort. People come here to relax. They don’t come here to cause trouble.”

“Yet resorts and vacation areas are often the first places trouble begins,” she replied.

“How many years have we come here to stay for a week or two?” countered Sylvia. “You didn’t seem too worried then. So why are you suddenly worried now?”

“Who wouldn’t be?” she asked. “What with everything else going on.”

Sylvia’s response to that was to fall back on the bed and sigh lustily. “The one thing I am hoping to avoid here is war talk. I’ve had enough of that already.”

“So have we all,” answered John, “but that doesn’t mean the war is going to go away.”

“What war? Who’s firing shots right now? People are just talking, that’s all.”

John and Helene exchanged glances. Perhaps she was more innocent than they had believed. If so, what was she getting into this summer?

Rolling onto her stomach, Sylvia faced her foster parents again. “Okay, okay, I know. The war is coming. But it’s not coming to Nine Angel this summer. We all know it’s going to start in Asia somewhere. The last time I checked, we aren’t anywhere near Asia.”

At that, Helene realized Sylvia had a point, and moved to start helping her unpack.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll be all right.”

“Be patient,” advised John. “It’s hard sending you off on your own like this.”

“It’s only for a summer! Besides, I’m done with school; I’ll have to go to work in the fall anyway.” She shrugged. “It’s not like foster kids go to college.”

Helene, turned away, bit her lip but said nothing. They’d had this discussion before, both with and without Sylvia’s participation and input. John met her eyes long enough to tell her he had noticed and that he understood, but otherwise offered no response. Sylvia, up off the bed again, missed the entire exchange.

She came up behind Helene and, with a surprising gentleness, stopped her from unpacking. “I know you want to help, but if you unpack me, it’ll take me days to find everything. I’ll be fine. Really. The season is only through the end of September and I’ll be home then, at least until I can find a steady job. I promise.” Digging through her handbag, she pulled out her phone. “I’ll call, too. You won’t lose too much of me.”

Sighing, Helene sat down in the faded but still well-functioning upholstered chair beside the bedside table. “I just wish I knew you’d be all right.”

“Do you know – for absolute certain – that I’ll be all right even at home?” Her words were harsh, but her voice was kind.

“No,” was the reluctant answer.

Sylvia dropped to her knees in front of Helene, reached one hand toward her, and reached another toward John. “You and John have done more for me than you ever had to. I know that. I appreciate it more than you realize. I’m going to make it up to you somehow someday.”

“Sylvia,” began John. “You know you don’t have to –”

“I know I don’t. That’s why I want to.”

He came to the chair and knelt beside one of the arms, taking her outstretched hand.

“I also knew all along,” continued Sylvia, “that when I finished school there wouldn’t be anything left. I’d have to be ready to be out on my own.” She paused. “And thanks to the both of you, I am ready. This summer will be a chance for me to make sure of that before I start looking for permanent work and my own place. I’d like to think I’m ready, but I won’t know for sure if you keep watch over me because you’re so worried.

“I promise you that I’ll be all right here, or else I’ll call if I’m in trouble. But it’s a four-hour drive, and it’s already after noon. You need to go ahead and leave if you don’t want to end up driving straight into the sun when it sets.” She glanced at the window, noting slanting light, but that could just be a factor of the closed blinds. “You may already, but if you leave now, perhaps it will only be for the last little bit.”

She stood back up. “Thank you. I’m here. I’m settled. I’ll see you when you come to the resort in August. Now, please…it’s time.”

Sometimes she could be so understanding and sensitive, and then in the next minute she’d be bouncing around and excited. John smiled inwardly. She was definitely still young, but she was growing into a fine woman. Maybe with her out of the house they could openly start working on some of their plans for her.

“Come on, Helene,” he said. “She’s right. We do need to get going.”

Still uncertain, she rose to her feet. “Be sure to call if you need help.”

“I promise,” said Sylvia, starting to walk her out the door.

“And if you just need to talk –”

“I’ll call. I really will, Helene. We’ll stay in touch. The summer will be over before we even realize it.”

She allowed herself to be guided out of the outer door and onto the steps. “I love you, Sylvia.”

“I know. I love you too. Now, please go before I have to think about the two of you driving in the afternoon sun and heat. It’s been really bad this year.”

With a final wave, they got into their car and left. Sylvia stood at the door watching until they had turned out of the drive back onto the main road.

She had unpacked, walked a few blocks to a grocery store and back, and was cooking a light supper when her roommate finally came in, looking worn out and dropping two large bags onto the floor. Sylvia imagined she could feel the floorboards shuddering.

The roommate held out her hand. “I’m Dianne McManus. I’m sorry.”

Sylvia took it. “You’re sorry?”

“For being late. You’re Sylvia Hammond, right?”

“Yes, and I’ve got supper cooking. It’s just chicken and rice. Would you like some?” Now seemed as good a time as any to try and establish a friendship, or at least a companionship of some sort.

Dianne closed her eyes and inhaled. “That would be heavenly. I just walked five miles dragging those things.”

Sylvia, in the middle of sliding the saucepan onto an unused burner, looked up in surprise. “You just walked five miles? That’s, what, eight kilometers?”

“Oh, that’s right. You use kilometers.” Dragging the desk chair from her room into the corridor, Dianne sank down and closed her eyes. She was still breathing heavily. “Border patrol. I’m American, remember? They turned the bus around. Said there were passenger irregularities. I told them that I had to get to Nine Angel tonight, and they cleared me across the border, but by then the last bus had left.” She took a deep breath and let it out, and her breathing steadied. “Someone gave me a ride most of the way but I had to walk the last little bit. It took me two hours. I had to keep putting the bags down so that the handles didn’t cut off circulation in my hands.”

“Why couldn’t you have just brought in a handbag or something and have the bus line bring the rest in tomorrow?”

Dianne opened her eyes, which turned out to be a surprising pale green. “We’d already been stopped once, and the patrol did take three people off the bus. Would you have trusted your things to a situation like that?”

“You have a point.” Sylvia dished out two steaming plates of rice and laid chicken pieces on top of them. Handing a plate to Dianne, she leaned against the countertop and began to eat. “And you’ve had quite the afternoon. Why did you have to come in today?”

“Oh, this is wonderful.” Dianne finished the forkful of rice in her mouth before she answered. “I start work tomorrow morning, 6:00 a.m. sharp.”

“You already have a job?”

“Yes. I had to in order to be allowed to stay in the country for more than four days. Don’t you have one?”

“I was going to go out and start looking first thing in the morning.” She shrugged. “I have enough to get me through a week or two – three if I really stretch it – and it’s still the beginning of the season. People are still hiring.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Just…resort things. Waiting tables, running cash registers. I have to start looking for real work in the fall, and I want to have something on my résumé when I do that.” Finishing her plate, Sylvia took Dianne’s empty plate and put them both into the sink. While she ran water for the dishes, she asked, “What are you doing?”

“Waiting tables at Dietrich’s. Hey, why don’t you come in with me in the morning? I think they’re still looking for people, and you don’t need sponsorship papers.”

Sylvia looked up. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

“No, thank you for the food. I think I might’ve collapsed without eating otherwise, because I’m sure too tired to cook. Or unpack.” Standing up, Dianne dragged her bags into her room and, leaving them on the floor, opened one and dug around inside until she found a t-shirt and a light pair of shorts. “I hope you don’t think I’m rude, but I want to lie down for a while.”

“Go ahead. You’ve certainly earned it.”

It was quiet after Dianne closed her door, so Sylvia retrieved her radio from her room and set it on the counter, turning the volume low, while cleaning up from the meal. A couple of songs played, but then it went to a news report.

“Faction leaders announced this afternoon that unless the United Nations made immediate concessions, they would attack the Washington, D.C., Metro System with nerve gas beginning next week and one additional subterranean transit system each additional week until their demands were met. In Israel, a new terrorist group has claimed responsibility for a rash of car bombings. It is not immediately clear whether they support the Palestinians or the Israelis. And in Laos earlier today –”

Sylvia slapped her hand down on the switch with a little more force than necessary. It was bad enough that John and Helene were worried, and that Dianne had had to walk five miles because she ended up on the wrong bus. There hadn’t been an attack in North America in two decades, ever since the September 11 incidents in the United States. But people were still paying the price, and security was tighter now than ever. It was enough to drive you crazy, but the news was still full of war reports every day.

She didn’t want to hear about it.

People had been coming to Nine Angel for so long that no one remembered where the name originated. It was a beautiful place, Sylvia mused. The breeze off the lake was cool and refreshing, but not chilly, and even after all these years the resort was still small enough to be quiet this late at night. The small size and family-oriented atmosphere also meant that it was perfectly safe to be walking here, along the shore, even at this hour.

Other than the occasional crunch of her shoes against seashells, the only sound was that of the small waves washing up onto the beach. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, relishing the slightly-metallic smell in the air. She’d been here every year since she was five, but this was the first time she’d been here alone.

Opening her eyes again, she continued walking until she found a stand of rocks. Climbing up to a comfortable seat, she settled down to stare out across the water. Only the reflection of the moon stared back at her.

She’d been to Dietrich’s with Dianne this morning, and had been hired on the spot. Her first shift was tomorrow afternoon. It was a seasonal job; she knew that, but right now that was fine. She had three more months before she had to decide what to do next, and in the meantime, she wanted to relax and enjoy herself.

Sylvia decided that this would be the summer she’d remember for the rest of her life.