It thinks for a moment.

"Umm, I was talking to miss Miller about programming languages earlier? That was very fun, and I'd enjoy doing some more of that."

Smart kid, huh. "Well, maybe you should ask her about that when you get done here. Last thing we want to check, Mae, is your blood sugar. I'll need to prick your finger for that, and it'll sting just a bit. Can you hold your hand out for me?"

Oh dear, well that doesn't sound very fun. It holds its finger out, but looks away so it doesn't have to see.

She sticks Mae's finger, and there's a sharp sting briefly, then she collects the sample carefully and lets her partner finish the testing while she puts a bandaid on Mae's finger. "There we go, all done. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Why do people say that? It was almost exactly as bad as it was expecting!

It does its best to make an agreeable-sounding noise.

In hopes of distracting the kid, usually. And in hopes of the mind rewriting the past slightly so it stops hurting as much. And especially because many kids aren't as clever as Mae and tend to assume things will be worse than they actually are.

Or at least that's what grown-ups think.

Either way, it's done now.

"Okay. And since you were good and brave for that, would you like a sticker?"

Oh, stickers are nice. It doesn't really have anything to put one on, but they're still fun.

"Sure!"

She reaches into one of her bags and pulls out a few sheets. "Do you have a favorite pokémon, Mae?"

Huh, good question actually.

…It's suddenly very glad it doesn't remember any pokémon from later than the '90s. It's pretty sure that's not even an effect of the amnesia.

"…Flareon?"

EMT Joy grins warmly. "Flareon's really cute, and a lot of fun."

She pulls out a pair of snips and cuts a Flareon sticker out of the sheet, leaving the backing attached, so Mae can choose where to put it later, and hands it over.

"Here you go!"

Aww, she left the backing on? Mae is very happy about this.

It takes the sticker.

"Anyone you wanna talk to or see now?"

"Ms. Miller, I suppose? And I think we were expecting me to need to talk to Social Services or Missing Persons or something."

It's not entirely sure what that process is supposed to look like, but it assumes the EMTs aren't the last people she needs to talk to, here.

She nods and leads the way outside, back to the waiting area, where Ms. Miller and the cops presumably are waiting.

"Welcome back, hun," she greets Mae. "How're you doing?" she asks, before turning to the EMTs curiously.

It giggles.

"Well, my finger hurts, but I got a sticker, so it could be worse."

"Good girl for working with the EMTs."

There's no biological cause for the amnesia. If she'd shown even a hint of evasion, Joy would've figured the kid was lying and running away — and honestly, if a kid is trying that hard not to go home, she might be inclined to let them — but Mae wasn't evasive at all. It's a bit of a mystery.

"She's got no sign of any injuries, no concussion symptoms, blood sugar is normal, but her memories before this morning are pretty thoroughly gone, as best I can tell. Near-complete retrograde amnesia with no apparent cause."

"Is there any special care she needs, or anything to help her recover?"

"I recommend getting some neurological tests at some point, and monitoring her mental state and how well she can keep forming new memories, but for the most part she just needs to take it easy."

Huh. Well, good to know it isn't physically injured in some way, at least.

Given the memories it isn't mentioning to anyone, this is drastically increasing its odds for "something fucky is going on".

Missing Persons haven't found anything for a girl matching her description yet, but Social Services have turned up something useful.

He walks over.

"Ms. Miller, may I have a moment?"

She looks up at Officer Moore and nods. "What is it, Officer?"

He takes her aside, out of earshot of the child.

"Our records show that you're a registered foster parent, is that right?"

She nods. "I am. Got through the process six months back. Why do you ask?"