They're on the list for that. It's not likely but things happen, sometimes, usually in the middle of a stock market crash, and there's no cost to be on the list.

They make a midnight trip to a furniture store to outfit a bedroom and to a grocery store to buy several hundred things she might like to eat and to a clothing store to buy her outfits and by the time they get home there are four grandparents at the house and time for a quick sweep for things a one-year-old shouldn't put in her mouth and then they have a daughter.

She is brought over by a cheery orange; the kid is wearing a rather institutional black jumpsuit. She blinks at them. Her hair is a lovely azure; if it had been ambiguous at all they would have figured her for purple or green because this just never happens.

"You still don't remember your name, dear?" the orange asks.

"Right," she says.

"Well, then, I'm sure your fathers would love to name you."

"...do you think she'll remember in a couple of days - how do you forget your name -"

"I don't remember anything," she says, "from before I woke up in the basket."

"It's not impossible but you need something to call her in the meantime anyway," says the orange.

"They were calling me Sky," says the little blue. "But not because it is my name. It is not."

They look at each other anxiously. "Can you think of something you would like?"

"We did have a list for a girl - Alatana or Notelle -"

She wrinkles her nose. "I don't know what things people are named but I don't like those."

- giggle. "Do you know sounds you like? Names are made from the same sounds as words -"

He looks up blue baby names on a pocket everything! "Lintalai. Savasa. Sintha. Kalea. Makal -"

"Not that one, it's nearly my brother's name."

"Sintha and Lintalai are okay."

"I like Lintalai."

"I do too."

"Okay. Is that my name now?"

"If you like it."

"Lin-ta-lai. Yeah."

Parents beam at her.

She shuffles awkwardly.

The orange has an information packet - since Lintalai didn't require emergency medical care when found they're responsible for getting that all set up, in the unlikely event it turns out she was kidnapped or something they are obliged to go through an arbitration process, here's a writeup of the circumstances under which she was found, they checked for hair dye but cannot guarantee admixture or that the color won't change, etc.

All of that is fine!

They take their daughter inside. It's a big house - not a big footprint, but four stories and high ceilings - and there is a room set up for her.

She looks rather solemnly at everything.

Dining room! Playroom! Big open room with a bar! Guest bedroom! Her parents' bedroom! Office! Secondary dining room! Third dining room!

"Do you ever need all of the dining rooms at the same time?"

"No, but it's nice to hold events in a dining room that's the right size for the number of people invited."

"What would happen if there was too much room?"

"People might wonder if more people were expected to attend, and why they didn't."