"Me and Audrey like the same kinds of things - pastels, anything cute, anything princessy - but Lily likes darker tones and jewel colors, especially deep red. She's a vampire like I'm a foxgirl."

Sable nods, following along. "And is that hair color natural, or do we need to try to color-match the dye?"

"It's a... Lily would have the words for this... one moment..."

"It's a permanent cosmetic procedure from our home world," Lillian says. "We figured out how to make hair follicles express some of the more common synthetic dyes... I'm not sure when..." She presses her hand to her head. "... Feeling of pressure there..." 

"Oh wow, that's really cool! Don't strain yourself, though, sweetheart. Take your time with the memory stuff, better to take longer than hurt yourself."

"Yeah. I get the sense it happened somewhere in my missing time, but..." She shakes her head. "No straining."

"Good girl. Y'know, I think that makes you the only other person like me, whose hair grows in an unnatural color. Everybody always asks what salon I go to, and I can never give them an answer."

"Huh! I wonder why your hair is like that. Maybe it was someone like you who the procedures on my world learned to imitate?"

Lillian grabs the bowl of nuts and berries and starts munching away a little more. 

"Not sure. All this happened to me suddenly one day. I got the body I want, though I hadn't understood what I didn't like about my body yet at that point, and my hair changed, and everything happened all at once. My parents were so confused."

"Gosh. Do you think...?" She hesitates to put the hypothesis to words. 

"That it could be related to what brought you here? Maybe. Those are the only two mysterious phenomena I have, so that seems worth investigating at least."

"For sure." Lilian exhales and shakes her head. "For now, well... I'd like to rest a little before we head out again. Do you have a relaxing book I could read, or...?"

"Sure. I've got 'em in the living room. I'll get you set up there and then go clean up from lunch, okay?"

She leads the way to the living room, where there are a variety of sci-fi and fantasy classics, like Lord of the Rings and Foundation, on a small bookshelf, along with a few model ships, both surface and space-faring.

"What sort of book would you like?"

"I like fantasy stories a lot. That one looks good." She points to The Fellowship of the Ring. 

"Oh that's a classic. That's one of the greats. Enjoy, sweetie. Lemme know if you need anything, okay? I'll check on you in maybe half an hour, an hour, to see if you're ready to head out."

"Okay. I'll curl up in your... tiny lounge?" She curls up on the couch, her feet up on the seat, and lays her head against the armrest and settles the book in a cozy reading position.

"Enjoy. Perhaps you'll have to tell me about how houses are organized on your world later."

And Sable heads off to clean up the dishes from lunch, then to take a few notes on her plans for a possible set of reactive fox ears.

The book is a nice distraction. It reads like it's an older piece, all wordy and meandering, but the author has a real sense of how to make a myth feel real, so it manages to occupy her. And she needs something to keep her mind off of Eva and Topaz. She can't afford to cry and fall apart just yet. 

Sable takes notes, then researches a bit to learn about different kinds of plurality. It's fascinating.

It feels important to understand, somehow, for more reasons than the obvious three in her living room.

But that can wait. She has adoptive daughters to look after.

...Foster daughters. Right.

Anyway, it's been an hour.

She heads back down from her office to check on the girls.

"How're you doing, sweetie? Enjoying the book?"

Lillian sighs. 

"Yeah, it's good, but I keep thinking about what my moms must be thinking right now. They must be so scared..."

She shakes her head. "Nothing I can do about that right now, though. So I'm trying to put it out of my mind. Getting out and shopping would be a welcome change."

It's sweet that she's so concerned about them, more than her own fear.