"Okay."

Unbasketgirl swings her legs and looks around the kitchen thoughtfully. "What if I don't have parents after all?"

"You have somebody," says Elizabeth. "The question's if Chris can find them or not."

"What if they aren't findable, then?"

"Then I guess you stay."

"Here?"

"Yeah. If you want," says Elizabeth.

"Okay," shrugs unbasketgirl.

"I don't know for sure if Chris will let you stay forever," she feels compelled to mention, "but I bet she will."

"Where else would I go?"

"I dunno."

"What kinda places are there in the world?"

"...What kinds of kinds do you mean?" she wonders. "Like houses and schools, or like towns and cities?"

"I don't know. All the kinds. Places to go if I can't just stay here."

"Well, you could go to somebody else's house, I guess," she says. "I don't know who, though."

"Is it nice here?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." The unbasket girl yawns.

"...Do you want to go to sleep?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Okay. You could sleep on the couch, it's comfy. Or in your basket."

"I don't think I want to be in the basket."

"Okay," Elizabeth says agreeably.

Unbasketgirl lets herself down carefully from the chair, falls over anyway, gets up, and toddles to the couch, onto which she climbs without incident.

Elizabeth shoves the basket off the couch, leaving the blanket on the cushion where it flopped.