She shrugs. "A charming young man, isn't he?"

"I guess, yeah? I didn't get a chance to know him too well." Pause. "I'm not really sure about the job."

"Oh? Is there anything I can do to assuage any doubts?"

"… Tell me you don't plan on firing me after I fall victim to mysteriously appearing buildings?"

She clicks her tongue. "You shan't worry about that, dearie, I wouldn't be so unreasonable."

"What sorts of – things – would I be delivering?"

"Jeb, if you please...?"

Now the wall of meat moves from the doorway. But not before fetching a cardboard box, which had been set just out of sight for the big reveal. Despite saying PAPER TOWELS 6 UNITS on the side, odds were low it held paper towels. Repurposing things is common enough in the City, after all, including containers. Jeb opens the box, then holds it out for Grandma Scarlett. She carefully reaches in, and withdraws...

Well, that makes sensible sense, at least.

"These teddy bears are hand-sewn by me, with love and care," she explains, setting the adorable flopsy stuffed doll on Rachel's kitchen table. "I produce one batch every week. It's been a hobby of mine for over a decade now. Mmm. Not a hobby. More of a calling, I suppose. Sometimes the children help me—not a sweatshop, mind you, but they have a vested interest in this project as well. Once the dolls are complete and... prepared, I ship them out to where they need to be. That's where you'll come in. One run a week, a day or three to complete each run. Lengthy hours but in the end, it's worth it."

"Oh."

Aww.

"That's – uh, I think I can probably do that?"

it is done, the bells chime—actually, speak, in her ear. It's... a much more literal sound than it was, before.

She beams. "I knew I'd made the right choice," she says with another click of her tongue. "Jeb will transfer the relevant maps to you today. I'm not much with computers, afraid. I have a charming little rented cargo truck you'll be using, which is currently in storage here in the city; I'll give you the keys, you can drive it out to the orphanage as soon as you're ready to fetch your first week's deliveries."

Carefully, the old woman rises from the kitchen chair—Rachel will be able to hear bones creaking and hopefully not cracking. She extends a brittle hand to shake.

Rachel reciprocates, carefully, and tries not to look too alarmed.

"– Thanks."

Grandma Scarlett smiles, with a twinkle in her eye, and she and Jeb leave, as the wind whispers sealed contracts cannot be broken...

Rachel shudders a bit at that. Hearing voices… was something she really hoped she'd never experience, not if they're not there.

She waits a few moments to see if anything else is said, and when she hears nothing, goes to her window. Maybe something else would prompt it.

it's a beautiful day out, the bells chime. shame about the rain, though.

There is no rain.

… She looks around, in case she's just missing it, and then blinks and shakes her head.

Maybe she'd better have something to drink.

better relieve the thirst before it relieves you.

… She is not sure she actually wants to have a drink anymore.

She grabs some water anyway and walks back to the window.

traffic goes on and on and never back.

       except when it does get back.

that never happens.

       sometimes it does.

well, granted.

She shudders, briefly, and then, tentatively: "Hello?"

she talks to herself in vain hopes of ethereal companionship.

"… Probably accurate although slightly harsh."

The bells decline to comment.

"It would be nice if this were a magical power. Stress to the point I 'hear voices' synesthetically: not a thing I want, thanks."

you've got mail.

She jumps a little, then – looks over at her door?

she is unused to living in an apartment building falling apart in the middle of nowhere.