“Do you think we’re bad people?” Noelle asks, picking at the dry skin around her nail. She doesn’t like looking at people’s expressions when she speaks. What if you grow annoyed with her? Imagining your face crumble in irritation makes her nauseous. “I just mean, you know, working here when we know how those creatures are treated.”

What else is she meant to call the merman and phoenix the circus loves to display? Bishop’s Circus had been where she grew up. Sold to it at the age of twelve by her father, Noelle knew only this.

Kane, the current owner and son of the previous circus owner, treats her fine. She’s fed, given a room, and paid for her performances. She’s ignored everything the circus has done, closed her eyes and covered her ears. Survival is playing dumb, and she knows how to survive. Like a cockroach that refuses to curl up and die.

In all the years she spent here, she’d never made a friend until you came along. A fellow acrobat, a partner. For better or worse, you’re stuck with her. She likes the idea of it. Even if you come to despise her, you’ll never be rid of her.

Noelle’s taken to following you around. She’s uncertain how friendships work. Being at your side is enough, right? Maybe she’ll ask you. She asks you everything. You always seem to know how to answer.

“But it’s not all bad, is it?” She’s starting to regret asking at all. It’s easier to pretend, to play up her ignorance. “I have you, and performing is nice.” It’s all she knows. How can it be anything but good?