Poor kid. She must be frustrated, and keeping it all in. 

For most eleven-year-olds, Evelyn would be thinking about starting their bedtime routine soon, but Deskyl is clearly jet-lagged or something and only woke up at 2 pm, she can't possibly be ready to sleep anytime soon. Evelyn can't wait until midnight or later to do her log notes and send over the pictures, though. Can she gently encourage-by-mime Deskyl to either settle in the living room with toys, or go relax in her own room upstairs? Evelyn is trying to be clear that either of these is an option and both are fine with her, but this is a subtlety she's not sure will come across in gestures. 

...actually could she go out in the backyard for a bit?

For a bit, sure! It's summer, so there are a couple more hours of daylight, and Evelyn can keep an eye on Deskyl discreetly through the window while she washes up in the kitchen, and gauge whether Deskyl seems to be playing responsibly and she can relocate to the study, which doesn't have direct line-of-sight, and check on her every few minutes. She tries to communicate via gestures at the clock, and pointing at the sun and miming its downward motion, that Deskyl can play while it's light out but should come in when it starts to get dark. (She doesn't super expect this to come across, but that's fine, she can just go out to fetch Deskyl in if she doesn't get bored first and come in on her own.) 

"Yes," and out she goes. Mostly she's looking for a cozy place to sit and mope, first - is there a tree she can sit under, maybe?

There is! There's a tire swing she can sit on under said tree, if she prefers that to the ground. She can hear the voices of younger children shouting in the distance, several backyards over, but no one else is actually visible and overall it feels peaceful. 

The tire swing is nice. She considers climbing the tree instead, but it doesn't feel necessary. She does cry again, some, just quietly, and when she's done, she reconsiders her decision to stay out of the tree.

Evelyn definitely has the impression that Deskyl is mopey, and considers going out to check on her, but it's not like she can even really offer that they can talk - they can't talk, that's probably half of what Deskyl is moping about - and kids, like adults, sometimes need space to themselves more than they need hugs and comfort. 

She doesn't immediately intervene when Deskyl looks like she's thinking about climbing the tree - Deskyl seems like a pretty athletic kid, who doesn't come across as reckless, and she let Jeremy climb the tree at eleven - but she is definitely going to hover and keep a sneaky eye on her, rather than going to the study where she won't be able to see her continuously. 

She seems pretty familiar with tree-climbing, and makes it up with no trouble, disappearing into the canopy. And once she's up and hidden away, she's apparently content to stay there.

If this were a more normal situation in any way, then Evelyn would be inclined to sit Deskyl down for a little chat, and explain that she knows climbing trees is fun but she would like it if Deskyl warned her when she was about to, so that Evelyn could keep an eye on her and make sure she was being safe. But, of course, she can't have any kind of chat, and Deskyl must be even more frustrated about that than she is. Sometimes you have to pick your battles, and in this case, she really doesn't think it's very likely Deskyl will injure herself, and it seems like a bigger priority to try, as much as possible, to make Deskyl feel at home here and like Evelyn is on her side. 

She gets out a book to pretend to read so it doesn't look like she's hovering anxiously, and still spends the entirely of the time failing to absorb any of it and being stressed that Deskyl will fall and hurt herself and, worst of all, she'll have to explain to her supervising social worker why she let her foster child engage in dangerous tree-climbing activities. 

Does Deskyl start to come down on her own before sunset? 

She does not!

Hopefully this won't be an awkward scene. Evelyn has been very much enjoying the lack of awkward scenes, she hates confrontation, but it's early days yet and Deskyl is probably used to a lot more independence than is healthy or safe for a child her age. 

She goes outside, calls to Deskyl, and points at the setting sun, then points at the tree, at the ground, and makes a downward fingerwalking gesture. "Deskyl, please come down now. It's going to be getting dark soon." 

"Mm." She points at the sun, then the horizon below it, and then taps her chest and points at the ground.

Which is obviously intended to communicate something and Evelyn has no idea what and she is trying so, so hard not to get visibly frustrated. 

"Deskyl, please come down. It gets dark very quickly here and it's not safe to climb in the dark." She will try to more emphatically mime 'climb down from the tree now.' 

This gets her an annoyed look, but then Deskyl does climb down, just as readily as she went up.

Evelyn has had crockery thrown at her head in anger half a dozen times; annoyed looks roll off her back like water. (Well, not entirely, she still doesn't prefer tension, but she appears completely unperturbed.) 

She's not going to force Deskyl to come inside if she doesn't want to, now that she's at least out of the tree. She'll give her some time to cool off before trying to have any more awkwardly mimed interactions. 

She looks back sunsetward, huffs, and heads inside to her room without interacting with Evelyn further. Fortunately it's facing the right way, even if watching the sun set from indoors isn't nearly as good.

It's been a long day; it's not surprising if Deskyl is a bit cranky. Evelyn herself is honestly a bit cranky. She stays downstairs and catches up on her log notes, emailing them to to duty social work team when she's done since Deskyl still hasn't been properly assigned a social worker. 

If Deskyl doesn't re-emerge, she plans to go up at 10 pm and gently nudge her in the direction of at least getting ready for bed, even if she wants to hang out quietly in her room rather than go to sleep yet. 

By ten, she's gotten a handful of the early reader books out of the other bedroom and is carefully attempting to sound out the text, referring frequently to her alphabet equivalency sheet; she's still noticeably annoyed at Evelyn when she turns up, but changes into pajamas without further argument before going back to the books.

Any annoyance Evelyn might have been feeling with Deskyl evaporated over the course of writing out her log notes. She's a kid - nearly a preteen, at that delicate age where it's normal and healthy for children to look for independence and test the limits - and she's without her parents, living in a stranger's house, in a foreign country where she doesn't speak the language and can barely communicate. Taking that into account, she's been remarkably well-behaved and cooperative. Evelyn smiles warmly at her and makes some impressed noises about the books. 

She makes a mental note that she needs to call the Social Services office first thing - if luck is with her, Deskyl will adjust her sleep cycle to something a bit more reasonable and in tune with the local clocks, but still sleep late enough that Evelyn has a couple of uninterrupted hours for busywork. Deskyl is clearly very motivated to learn the language, and Evelyn has no idea how to teach someone English except by continuing as she's been doing, but she expects Deskyl could make much faster progress on reading with a few hours of dedicated tutoring. And, of course, it would be great to know if there's any progress on the investigation to find her parents... 

Evelyn herself heads bedward around 11 pm, pausing at the landing to check if the light is still on under Deskyl's door. (She won't disturb her, but she wants to have some kind of sense of how late Deskyl is staying up.) 

Her light is still on at eleven; she sleeps through the morning again, and turns up yawning at 12:30 if Evelyn doesn't get her up before then.

Evelyn did some Google research on jet lag in children and mostly ended up concluding that all of the advice disagrees with itself and she has no idea what the best approach is. Her plan had been to wake Deskyl at 1 pm for lunch, if she wasn't up yet; if they can shift her an hour earlier every day, in less than a week she'll be on a perfectly respectable sleep schedule for a child of her age. 

She's made good use of her morning, and rammed through a number of phone calls. The photo of her alphabet has been passed on to Evelyn's supervising social worker's manager's manager, who will hopefully have a better idea of what to do with it. Deskyl has an assigned social worker, Christine, who will be visiting at 4 pm. They're working on getting her a language and reading tutor for a few hours a day, though that kind of thing never moves fast and at this rate Deskyl might have mostly figured it out on her own by the time anything is arranged. And, after bringing up the matter of Deskyl's poor fine motor skills - which particularly stand out now, in contrast with how confident she is at climbing trees - Evelyn has an appointment booked for her with a specialist doctor in two days' time. By which point, hopefully, Deskyl will have learned a little bit of English, whether by immersion or tutoring, and Evelyn can actually communicate to Deskyl where they're going and why. 

She's in the kitchen, reading the newspaper and humming cheerfully. She waits for Deskyl to come down rather than going up when she hears her door open, and waves sunnily at her when she comes into the kitchen. "Breakfast?" 

"Brrrekfast?" she parrots.

Evelyn beams at her and says "Good job!" even though Deskyl probably hasn't picked up enough language by immersion to understand her. She plops some toast in the toaster for her. The butter has been out in a dish since she got up, and should be nice and soft and easier to spread without causing a lot of damage to the bread. She takes out the container of fresh vegetables and dip she prepared earlier and sets that on the table as well. 

Yep, that's food all right, and the butter is indeed easier for her to deal with like this. She kind of wants something a little heartier, though, is there anything in the fridge she can ask if she can have?

Evelyn smiles at Deskyl and does not object to her riffling through the fridge! She seems to be a carbs-y sort of person in general, based on the range of available leftovers, but there are yogurt cups and more Babybels and there's a drawer of deli meats?