"I don't think Saher has comprehension problems, I just have magical protagonist language powers," Emily explains. "I'm not sure how I got here, but I'm pretty sure this isn't Earth — or at least it has to be a hidden forest, or something like that."

She gets suddenly worried.

"Is eating the food fine? Saher said so, but maybe I should double-check."

"I cannot personally vouch for the safety of any food," the dispatcher replies. "You should use your own judgement about whether food is rotten or contaminated. If you show me pictures, I can help you make that assessment."

They were worried about whether eating the food would mean they had to stay here, Saher explains.

The dispatcher winces slightly.

"Young person, on my oath as an Emergency Services worker, there is no reason why eating food should require you to stay in a place, or prohibit leaving it. Some kinds of medicine, including vaccines, come with the recommendation to stay in a location for a few minutes in order to increase the chances that you would notice an allergic reaction while in a safe location. Some kinds of hallucinogen can make it unsafe for people to leave unsupervised. Other than that, there is absolutely no connection between what you eat and where you are permitted or able to go."

"My name is Emily," she responds. "And — good. I didn't think so, but I wanted to check."

She eats another cracker, to show she's not afraid.

"Has anyone ever told you that you couldn't leave — or that you had to do other things — because they said so, or because you performed particular actions, such as eating?" the dispatcher questions.

She starts to shake her head, and then pauses.

"Well, I would have gotten in trouble if I tried to leave school," she says. "Or if I stayed in the wrong areas, or read during lessons, or didn't do my homework, and stuff like that."

"Saher, does your phone have remote backups?" the dispatcher asks.

Saher nods. It does.

"Okay. I am officially commandeering it. The city will mail you a replacement. Emily, I need you to listen carefully, please, because this is important."

Emily looks back and forth between Saher and the phone in confusion.

"... okay?"

"This is now your phone. It belongs to you. You may keep it with you wherever you go, and nobody has the right to demand you get rid of it. If you find yourself in a dangerous situation, or just in need of help, you can use it to call Emergency Services. Call at any time. We would rather you call us when you don't need to, then not call us when you do need to. Do you understand?"

Emily looks at Saher, but she doesn't seem angry.

"I understand. But ... it was Saher's phone. Why can you give it to me?"

She clutches her book protectively.

It's the law in Twin River City, Saher explains. Emergency Services can requisition certain kinds of private property in order to mitigate an ongoing situation where someone could be hurt. It's okay — I agreed to the law when I moved here, and I still agree with it. You haven't agreed to the laws, because you came here unexpectedly, so they can't requisition anything from you unless you do. And I think there's an opt-out form.

"There is," the dispatcher agrees. "Saher will get a replacement phone, so really this is just depriving them of their phone for a few hours. And the replacement will be new, so it will have a better battery life and so on. But I had to requisition their phone in order to make this next part safe — Emily, I've got one further serious instruction for you, and then we can figure out what should happen next. Ready?"

She nods uncertainly. "I'm ready."

"If at any point you want to leave, you can. No matter what Saher or anyone else tells you. If you need to, take your phone and run away into the woods. The woods can be dangerous, because you might fall and hurt yourself or get lost, but as long as you have your phone with you, you can call for help and we'll be able to find you. Looking at the map, it looks like the nearest town is about two miles west of you — that's the direction the sun sets. I don't anticipate you needing to run into the woods, but it is very important that you have the option to do so. People should not be confined to certain areas or punished for reading, of all things. Do you understand?" the dispatcher asks, their voice quietly serious.

"I ... I understand," Emily agrees. "But it's not, I mean, that's just how school is, it's not an emergency or anything."

The dispatcher nods.

"It's alright. My job is to help keep people safe, which means I see a lot of people in bad situations. And I would rather unnecessarily scare six young people with instructions they won't turn out to need, than not say something to one who does turn out to need it," they explain, voice comforting. "I am nearly certain that everything is going to be fine — but now, I know that at least things can't end up any worse than you being alone in the woods. Because if things do get that bad somehow, I can trust you to leave. It puts a lower bound on how bad things can be, which gives us[in] a safety cushion to figure out how to make things better than that."

Emily pulls her knees up to her chest, setting the bench swinging.

"O-" she starts to say, and then realizes that she doesn't have to force herself to talk.

Okay, she signs.

"I'm sorry that was overwhelming," the dispatcher says. "Do you want to keep talking about what we could do next — like contacting someone you trust, or getting you somewhere you can stay the night — or do you want to leave that for later?"

You can stay here, Saher signs. For at least tonight, and a six-day if you want. It would be nice to have some company for a while; if you don't choose to stay, I might invite my grandchild over instead.

I ... staying here is fine for now, Emily agrees. She turns to the phone. I don't think you can contact my parent. You can try if you want. We live at three four zero Blinke St. in Cassidy, Vermont. Their phone number is ... and she rattles off the number again. But Saher tried it and it didn't work.

"I don't recognize any of those place names, but I can put out a search to be certain. Now, can you still understand me if I speak like this?" the dispatcher asks.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be able to?" she asks.