'Normal,' by Greta's standards, would be all the children of a certain age who live on the same street mingling with one another and forging their own friendships. Darrow's too large -- and its parenting population too wary -- to foster that sort of thing. This more deliberate arrangement might be normal by local standards, but she can't help but feel a bit anxious about it. She likes Saoirse and Jordan, and she doesn't see any particular reason why they wouldn't get on (unless Saoirse takes exception to the age difference, or Jordan gets frustrated by Saoirse's inability to speak).

But whether they get along isn't really up to her, it's up to them. Mostly she's just counting on Jordan's good nature and Saoirse's good manners to keep this from becoming a disaster, even if they don't really take to one another.

She returns Sam's smile, both pleased to see him looking well, post-madness, and grateful to have some back-up. "We're rather a large crew, aren't we?" Motley, too, and she can't help grinning when she realizes it's mostly comprised, now, of little girls and variously sized dogs.

The size disparity between Cu and Marvin (and even Jordan, for that matter) is greater than she'd imagined it would be. If she hadn't already seen how good the dog is with Saoirse, it might be a little alarming. "He does know how big he is," she says for Sam and Jordan's collective benefit as Cu lies down on the sand and stretches his nose towards Marvin. "So he's very gentle, isn't he, Saoirse?"