There was a girl on the ground. Her face was cold and numb, lips blue from the freezing cold. He touched the girl's cheek, and she felt like a china doll. He quickly picked her up, breathing heavily in the crisp air. She was light, skin and bones. Leaves crunched beneath his feet as he walked over to the cabin. He opened the oak door and shut it behind him. The man set her down on the floor, near the fire, her head bobbing limply. His blue eyes scanned the spell books lining the walls. He grabbed the one he needed from the shelf closest to him and flipped to page 35, the thawing spell. The man blew gently on the illustration of fire next to the writing. Magic whispered from his lips in curling fiery tendrils and floated over to her body, where they swirled like the North Wind and then vanished into thin air. A couple seconds went by, and then she took a shaky breath, making her blonde hair blow in front of her face. As she opened her dark brown eyes, he disappeared in front of her.

“Camille! Wake up, it’s time for Town Assembly!” A warm hand shook her shoulder to wake her up. Camille sat up, startled, and rubbed the lingering bits of slumber from her eyes. “Whaa-?” she mumbled, pulling her down comforter off her feet. The young boy flipped his brown hair out of his face and whipped the blanket all the way off of her, making a cold gust of air that made her shiver. That woke her up.“What was that for, Nayo?” She gasped, jumping out of bed and throwing open her wooden drawers. He grinned.

“I told you it’s time to go. We’re going to be late!” Nayo pranced out of the room, shutting the door behind him so she could change in privacy. Camille tugged on her warm blue wool leggings, slipped a brown tunic on, and quickly ran to the kitchen to get her shoes. Her sisters and Nayo were sitting on the counter, eating a piece of dark toast made from liyo plants, a populous species found in the town of Okin exclusively. Her littlest sister lept off the counter and grabbed Camille’s sleeve. “Kino, do you want a piece of toast?” Camille looked at the clock on the wall to see if she had enough time to eat.

“Um… no thanks, Shay. Thank you for offering!” She tousled her sister’s red hair, making the curls bounce. “You know you don’t have to call me kino anymore, right? You’re almost 9, which means you are an Elder Child now!” She laughed goodnaturedly. Shay frowned.

“I know, but I want to!”

“Okay, whatever floats your boat…” She started looking for her shoes. They were new, she had got them only two months ago. If she had dropped them in the lake yesterday… oh, she would be in so much trouble…. “Aha!” Camille pounced on the pair of black shoes sitting underneath the supper room table. “I knew I hadn’t lost them!” Their father came walking into the supper room. Seeing Camille in a funny position, butt in the air, reaching for her shoes, he laughed outright and affectionately patted her bottom. “If you leave your tush in the air like that, sweetie, it might get stuck that way!”

Camille stood up and brushed off her knees. “Papa….” She groaned, slipping her feet into her shoes. She headed towards the door. “Ok, let’s go!” Shay, Nayo, her two twin sisters Magali and Yeva, and her father followed her outside. It was crisp, and it smelled of autumn leaves throughout the air. They rushed as quick as they could to Town Square, where the General was already getting ready for his weekly announcement. He checked the microphone, adjusted his tie, cleared his throat….

“Malsa, everyone!” He said cheerfully.

“Malsa, General.” everybody said in unison. The General grinned.

“Come on, we can do better than that.” That was an unwritten invitation for the kids to scream “MALSA!” without getting a noise warning. As usual, the kids took that invitation, and as usual, everyone covered their ears. The General was still smiling, for he loved the kids no matter what they did. “That was much better. Ready for the song?” On cue, the musicians started playing the intro to ‘Our City The Brave One’.

Our city the brave one,
all full with light and happiness,
positivity is in brave ones,
we accept all people no matter what.
Our city the brave one,
we fought in the darkest wars and battles,
and we managed to keep our sanity,
our city the very bravest.

The crowd sounded absolutely beautiful, the chorus of all different voices, low and high, made a rich, moving choir of sound. Camille swayed as she sang, and so did May and Nayo. The townspeople connected on a spiritual level when they sang the town anthem. There was something magical about it. When the song ended, a silence fell over the crowd. The General finally broke the quiet. “That was beautiful, my people. As always.” He winked and adjusted his tie. Camille eventually tuned his voice out, for when it was time for announcements he tended to drone on and on. She started to listen when she saw a young girl come on stage. The young girl was little, wearing a red dress with white buttons and black shoes. The General grinned at her. He grabbed her under the arms and lifted her gently onto the platform. She giggled.

“Malsa, guys!” She spoke into the microphone, a little too loudly. “My name is Anissa, and I wanted to tell you all something. I lost my second tooth today!” The crowed hesitated for only a moment, but then cheered. Camille groaned inwardly. What a waste of time. Why couldn’t she be inside making brownies, or hanging out with her best friends. It was a Sunday, after all. No, she had to go to Town Meeting instead, wasting the first part of her day. Camille sighed.

“I hate going out and fetching the milk. “ Kamau thought bitterly. “It’s such a tedious chore.”
Though he could not hear the birds chirping sweetly in the morning, or the sounds of the cows mooing, he was sure that if he could hear them it would just agitate him even more. A defect at birth had made him profoundly deaf. It was, on occasion, a nuisance to his life, but usually it was fine. He could only communicate using sign language. Kamau did not speak, because he was secretly self-conscious about the way he spoke, for he could not hear himself. He would never ever tell anyone that, though. Kamau was too much of a warrior in his mind to admit anything to another person that he wasn’t proud of. He sat and milked the cows in silence. A cow mooed at him, but he couldn’t hear it. Kamau picked up the bucket sullenly and walked back to the house. His mother was there waiting for him. He looked up, a sour expression on his face. “If you keep on making that face, it will stick that way!” she signed. He ignored her and handed her the bucket. Kamau began walking away but she turned him around. “Hey, young man. Don’t treat your poor mother that way. I’m just a delicate flower..” His mother’s hands flew quickly while a smile rested on her glowing face. Kamau couldn’t keep the smile from spreading to his face too. He had a great relationship with his mother. They joked and had fun together often. His father, on the other hand…

Kamau couldn’t hear him, but he could tell his father was home by the way his mother’s expression changed so quickly. He turned around to see his papa was glaring at her. “Speak of the devil…” he thought, walking to his room as fast as possible so as to avoid his father. Kamau and his father did not get along. His father was scary, manipulative, and occasionally even dangerous. His shift had recently changed from the graveyard shift to an earlier one, unfortunately for Kamau and his mother. Kamau usually managed to stay out of sight when his father was home, but his mother always stayed with her husband. She was a slave to him, doing everything for him and getting nothing in return. Not that she expected any thanks. He thought this angrily as he sat on the wool rug in his bedroom. He picked at it mindlessly. “Stupid Father. Why does he have to ruin everything!” Kamau stood up. He grabbed the pretty glass paperweight on the bedside table and threw it as hard as he could. It smashed into trillions of tiny transparent splinters, scattering sharp pieces of glass flying all over the room. His father had found that paperweight at a market and had given it to him as a last-minute birthday present. “I don’t know I even kept that piece of crap for so long.” Kamau thought, unlocking his door. “What a piece of trash.” And that was when he realized that he didn’t know whether he was referring to the glass... or his father.

Wind blew softly through their hair. The ebony curls swirled as they were tossed, making an illusion of a rolling black sea. They lay back, folding their arms behind their head and sighing.
“Who am I?” the person thought, a lump in their throat forming. “What am I doing here? I have no place, no purpose.. no-one needs me.” A solitary, sparkling jewel of a tear trickled down their face and hung by their chin, as if asking for permission to fall. The person shook their head and it fell and made a wet spot on their dark winter coat. “No-one understands. They think I’m crazy, they think I’m making this up.” All of a sudden, a rush of empowerment flowed through their body. They sat up, clenching their fists and their teeth in bravery.
“I know who I am.
I am strong.
I am brave.
I am smart.
I. AM. REAL.” The person screamed out loud, saying the last three words over and over until their voice became hoarse with exhaustion. “I AM REAL I AM REAL I AM REAL I AM REAL I AM REAL!” They fell asleep, a proud, confident smile on their face. They were unaware a dark shadow was behind them, whispering dark magic. Spells ebbed and spilled from the shadow’s lips, which started to curl into a malicious smile. Three words came from this magic, three words that made its way into the sleeping person’s mind and poisoned their dreams. Three words that would follow them, that would haunt them. These words would echo in their brain for months...‘’Not for long…”

History class had always been a fascinating topic to Camille. The stories, the folklore, the old ways...but now it was ruined by the new professor. His name was Mr. Anderse. He had just moved here to the lovely town of Okin from a faraway town called Elbem. It was still in the Republic of Mihu, but it only had 20,490 people in it altogether. Camille had only learned these facts this morning, for that is all Mr. Anderse talked about the first half of class. Mr. Anderse’s voice was dry and went on and on forever about the most boring topics. And with Camille’s ADHD and short temper, it was clear to her that she couldn’t stand this much longer without exploding. This used to be the only class she could pay attention to. Her other teachers were constantly sending her out of the class and to the office because they didn’t care about her enough to talk through her anger. Now she would have to spend her days in the office, listening to the secretary, Miss Mel, animatedly talk about her liyo plant and fresh goat milk cheese casserole with the school nurse. She sighed tiredly. “Better than nothing.” she muttered.

Camille moved her seat back, stood up on it, and yelled, “WHO WANTS SOME ICE CREAM?” All the students, used to her antics by now, were surprisingly pleased by her sudden outburst. Apparently they wanted to get out of class too, because each and everyone of them started yelling for ice cream, seeing who could be the second person kicked out of school to go home. Assuming Camille was of course, first. Mr. Anderse walked her out the door and down to the office without saying a word, a forlorn look on his face. “He’s not even angry?” Camille wondered. “He’s almost… sad.” She almost felt bad now, but it was too late. He signed her in-school-suspension notice, and left quickly, feet scuffing on the cherry wood floor.

Voices murmured in her mind. She never knew where they came from, or why they were there, but all she knew was that when she was feeling a strong emotion such as anger, resentment, or sadness, the voices got louder. They didn’t ever talk loud enough for her to hear. It was something Camille had gotten used to by now. The voices were silently infuriating but routine, a normal thing in Camille’s life. She slipped out of her reverie when she heard Miss Mel shuffle over to the front of the office. “Kamau?” Miss Mel said, looking through her files. “I heard you’ll be a new student here, I hope you like it…” She looked up when she saw that the boy standing there was looking confused. He signed to the secretary, but Camille could see that Miss Mel didn’t understand he was deaf, so she kept chatting. Luckily for the new boy, she was almost fluent in sign.

“I can translate, Mel.” Camille said, getting up from the chair with a quiet grunt. He looked at her, a grumpy and reluctant expression on his face. He quickly started signing, obviously trying to psych her out, seeing if she could catch up. “I like this kid.” she thought to herself. Miss Mel nodded as Camille translated for him. “I am deaf.” she said, glancing at him for the next sentence. “You are an…” she trailed off, noticing that he was grinning. The boy, Kamau, had just signed “You are an ignorant moron. Pay attention, and give me my file.” He was testing her, she knew it. Camille raised her eyebrows and said “..an excellent secretary. I’ll be leaving now, once i get my file.” He was reading her lips. Kamau frowned, but there was still a hint of a smile on his lips. Miss Mel smiled. “Thank you. Here’s your file. You are such a sweet boy.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. Camille turned to him to translate, but he had already left. She grabbed her bag, swinging it on her shoulder, and quickly followed him outside. Kamau sat on a bench and she slid next to him.

“Hello.” She signed, smiling. “What’s your name?”
He looked at her apprehensively. “You already know, that moronic secretary said it.”
Camille put her hands on her hips. “Your real name, your nickname. Or do you not have one…”
“Kam.” He fingerspelled, a blank expression on his face. Kam wanted to seem casual. Camille laughed.
Kam looked confused. “Why are you laughing?”
She set her bag down on the concrete to properly turn to him. “Because that’s my nickname too. Except spelled with a C.”
“Moron. You can’t have the same name as me, ‘Cam with a C’.”
“Hey, I was here first. You’re the moron.” She grinned. The bench was well hidden from view, so they chatted for a long time, forgetting about going to their classes.  And for the first time in months, Kam laughed too, not caring what he sounded like.

“Hmm. I wonder where Musho went…” wondered Kam, looking around the barn. The familiar brown and white cow wasn’t in the stall where she usually was, and it was milking time. The leaves, brown with the tiredness of winter, crunched beneath his feet. He could smell fresh bread wafting from the house where his mother was baking. A crisp wind breezed past his face, making the left side of it cold and numb. Kam walked to the other side of the barn, calling for Musho. He knew the sweet heifer would understand his affected speech, for she was used to it by now. A gruesome scene awaited him. There, on the other side of the stalls, behind a tree, lay Musho. She was bleeding from the neck and the side, a puddle of crimson fluid around her body. The wounds didn’t look deep, but there was a crust of already-drying blood on the cuts. “Musho!” he cried, running over to her and sitting down next to her head. “What happened to you?” He gently touched her neck wound, and then moved to a different part of her neck to check for a pulse. “Come on,  come on…” He was about to lose hope when he felt faint vibrations underneath his fingertips. Kam was about to yell for joy, when he remembered that if he made a loud noise, and Musho was still conscious, she would most likely move her head and cause even more damage to her neck. Instead, he whispered “Hold on, Musho.” and ran down the hill to the house, calling for help. “Mother!” he signed frantically when he opened the door and walked into the farmhouse. “Musho is wounded and she needs help or she might die! Mother!”

His mother made a motion for him to slow down. “What happened to Musho?”
He sighed, frustrated, and repeated what he had just signed. Mother’s face turned white. “Let’s go. Call the farmhands. Where is she?” He pointed out the window to the tree next to the barn. They stepped outside, going different paths as his mother ran up the hill to Musho, and Kam ran to the farmhands’ cabin. He hurried to the cabin, heart beating fast. Kam threw open the door, startling the farmhands who were playing cards. He signed the sign-words for cow, hurt, barn, and now, knowing that most of the help had a very limited knowledge of sign language. They immediately sprang into action, grabbing their coats and slipping on their boots as fast as they possibly could. There was about 6 farm helpers in all, but that would be enough to help and carry the cow. Musho was their only cow, and she was an expensive milk cow at that. If they lost her, their main source of income would be lost too. It would take weeks, maybe months, to regain the money they lost and buy a new milk cow. Kamau ran with the farmhands back up to the barn. They stopped when they saw Musho. Kam’s mother was next to the cow, murmuring softly. The farm hands crept up quietly, some of them going on Musho’s right side, some of them moving towards her left side. One of them held up their fingers and counted down from three. On three, they scooped their hands underneath the cow and lifted her up. They moved towards the barn, trying to get her into her stall so they could properly take care of her. Musho’s eyes opened, looking scared and tired. Kamau walked beside her head, comforting her with his presence. As the farm helpers gently put her down, Kam thought worriedly.

“Oh, I hope she’ll be okay…”

The eerie clang of bells came from behind her and reverberated around the tunnel. She turned, shoes scuffing on the concrete, heart drumming in her chest. “Hello?” she said, looking around. “Is anyone there?” The bells seemed to be coming closer, but she could see nothing except the night. Whispering ghosts huddled around her. She could feel them breathing on her neck, they were scared too. But the spirits were not what made her body clench in fear. It was the bells, that never seemed to stop clanging, ringing, echoing. “Please don’t.” The woman said this with a tremor in her voice. “Don’t hurt me, whatever you are.” The bells were next to her now. Clang. Clang. Clang. “Please!” she begged. “I never did anything wrong, I don’t know who you are. Don’t hurt me.” There was a moment of silence. Then a bloodcurdling shriek came from the woman, and she fell to the ground. Her eyes blinked in shock and pain. The ghosts tried to shield her, they tried to help her, but they were no help. Blood started to pool. The woman’s skull had cracked from the impact. A gaping hole formed in the middle of her stomach. She gasped her final breath as a blue wisp came from the the hole, curling in the air and dissolving in a matter of seconds. Then all was calm. Outside the tunnel, the crisp fall wind shook the aspens and birds chirped, singing their evening songs. But all of a sudden, they stopped. A shadow, creeping from the tunnel, darkened the sky for a brief minute then quickly
disappeared. The birds, finding nothing to be wrong, resumed their chirping. No-one would find out about this incident for at least a couple of days. The woman had been a nobody. For now, nothing seemed to be wrong with the world.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

“She’s a rather ostentatious girl, to be quite brusque.”The principal talked to her father in her office, unaware that Cam was listening. “You’re rather ostentatious, Mrs. Rose.” she thought sullenly, angry at her principal’s condescending tone. Mrs. Rose was talking to her parents due to an incident in class involving several tipped tables and chairs, loud shouts for justice, and a lot of laughing from all the students. Camille thought it was funny at the time. She wasn’t really feeling that way anymore. Cam was trying to block out the negative things the principal was saying about her in the other room, but it was hard. She was a natural eavesdropper. Her father, by the sound of it, did not seem pleased with Cam’s earlier antics in class. The voices got closer to the door, and Camille quickly stepped away from it. Her jeans scuffed against the carpet as she sat down. She was trying to be casual. Mrs. Rose was finishing up what she had been saying in the office to her father. “...she is a heretic, a freethinker. Camille is attacking the cherished traditions and religious beliefs of our school.” Camille’s face clenched, the muscles twitching. “I think you’re just trying to fit as many fancy vocabulary words as you can into this conversation.” she thought angrily. Her father looked down at her. His face was stern. “Osla, Mr. Neroh. I hope you have a wonderful day.” Mrs. Rose said, but her voice did not sound like she actually meant what she said.
“Let’s go, Camille.” her father said, not answering the principal, his tone of voice dry and without emotion. Camille got up, turning back to see Mrs. Rose walking back, high heeled shoes clicking on the hardwood inside her office.
They walked in silence, a fuming daughter and probably equally angry father. The school halls were vacant and quiet, making everything even more awkward then it already was. Cam clenched her fingers into a fist, and then spoke, voice shaking. “What did she say, kino?” She referred to him in this moment as ‘elder’ to be respectful. Her father turned to her, eyes sparking with madness. “She said that she is expelling you for misconduct and that you are  never to come back again. I will have to either quit my job to homeschool you so that you get an education, or I will have to take the night shift so that I can drive you to a different school in the neighboring province, Eshra. Happy now?” He turned around and kept walking. Her father’s footsteps were harder now, like he was trying to stomp through the carpet and into the warm earth, where he could hide forever. Cam looked down, afraid and ashamed.
“I’m sorry, father.” she whispered. They were at the exit now, so her father opened the door and gestured for her to sit down on the bench outside. She obliged, and he sat down on her left. Father turned to her, his face now tired and giving up hope. “Darling, we’ve been over this before… sorry never cuts it. Sorry doesn’t fix what you did. Apologies are a fickle thing, flower. Apologies can mend a broken heart, but they can’t fix what has been done.” He tucked her long blue hair behind her ear in a loving way. Her brown eyes blinked with tears. “Now...let’s go home, eat supper, which was made by your wonderful brother, Nayo, and see what we can do tomorrow, alright?” Camille nodded. She was unable to speak. They headed home, hand in hand, father and daughter. Their hearts may have been mended, but what she did could never be fixed.

Kamau slept peacefully, his snores wafting through the window and heard by the figure standing outside. The shadowy person was outside the window, darkening the area around itself. It was waiting, listening, ready. It seeped in the farmhouse, and then reassembled itself when inside. The shadow went around from room to room, putting the people in the house into a deeper slumber with the touch of its hand. The last room was Kam’s. The figure was very careful in this room, tiptoeing up to his bed and leaning over, making sure not to make a sound. The shadow started to bring its hand to Kamau’s face. As its finger touched the dark cocoa brown of Kam’s skin, a blue electric shock zapped the figure’s hand with incredible force. The room started to pulse with blue light, startling the shadow and causing it to snake out of the room at top speed, trying to get out of the house. But Kamau didn’t wake up. Light burst in firework-type swirls and then slowly dimmed, bringing the room back to its original yellow color. Nighttime droned on, but the usual croaks of bullfrogs and howling of wolves were replaced by quiet. The early morning finally came, the previous night’s activities forgotten. Kam woke up, stretching his arms above his head. He pulled the covers off of him, pushing them onto the floor. He swung his legs over the bed, walked into his slippers, and quickly glanced in the mirror. That was when he noticed something very strange. There was a burn on the right side of his face. It was about the size of a handprint, and was shaped like one too. But the weirdest thing about it was not the shape of it.. it was the color. It was colored an unusual electric blue, and had darker blue lines, almost like veins, running through it. Kamau brought his hand to his face to touch it. It stung when he did, and he pulled his hand back in pain. “Ouch.” he thought, frowning. His mind was racing but on the outside he seemed calm. What was he going to do? Would his mother freak out? What would his father do to him? Kam quickly hatched a plan in his mind. He would put a scarf around his head, like his mother and father did when they went to Religion meeting, and say that he was going to spend the day praying for Musho, who was in critical condition. Hopefully his parents would believe him. There was no other thing to do besides run away. If they found him like this, they would report him to the General. The General’s doctors and scientists would probably want to test on him, and that would not only be terrifying and weird, but it would be extremely hard to communicate with them due to Kam’s deafness.

Kamau grabbed a gold and black scarf from his dresser, wrapped it carefully around his head, covering up the burn, pulled a sweater over his head, and stepped into the hallway. His mother was right there too, and they almost bumped into one another. “Oh, Kamau.. why are you wearing that prayer scarf?” his mother questioned, stepping back to get a better view. “I want to dedicate this day to praying for Musho.” signed Kamau. Mother’s eyes narrowed, but then started overflowing with tears. “Kamau.. you’re such a sweet boy.” She held out her arms. He stepped into her warm embrace, and Mother patted him on the back. She backed out of the hug to sign “I love you.”, before bustling towards the kitchen to finish making breakfast. “I think that went well.” thought Kam, adjusting his headscarf. He walked to the kitchen and sat down at the table as Mother set a steaming pile of cheesy scrambled eggs and bacon down. “Mmm.” said Kam, feeling his throat vibrate with the sound. He often did this out of habit when he spoke or made a sound, for as a child, people tried to get him to speak without using sign. They would make him feel their vocal cords vibrate as they talked, and then would have him feel his. His mother noticed this gesture, but said nothing. She just smiled and scooped some food onto his plate. “How hungry are you?” she signed. “I only want a little bit, thank you.” Kamau looked up at her. She looked suspicious, but only gave him a small amount of eggs and one strip of bacon nonetheless. He ate quickly, wasting no time to sign with his mother. Though he loved their morning conversations, he had to go to his room to figure out where to burn came from. Or pray for Musho, as his mother thought he would do. Kam felt bad lying to his mother, but he didn’t want her to worry about him. Mother worried about him enough, him being an only child and being deaf.

Kamau walked to his room. He opened the door and shut it quickly behind him. He ripped off the headscarf and checked his now throbbing burn. It seemed to be glowing somehow. Kam touched it again and got the same stinging result. “It’s almost...electric..” thought Kam, sitting down on his bed, his head in his hands in astonishment. “Am I a Magic One? No, I couldn’t be. But...” Thoughts were fighting in his head like wolves over meat, pushing each other out of the way. Conflicting emotions made Kam’s heart rate raise because of adrenalin. He stood up, tearing at his hair. A streak of electricity ran through his body, shocking his insides and making all his body hair stand on end. Blue crackles whispered from his hand. He looked down to find that part of his bed was on fire. He had done that. He did that. Kamau Redok, the deaf-but-otherwise-ordinary boy with brown hair and brown skin.

Kamau, a Magic One.

Camille gasped, clutching at her throat in pain. The dark figure was grabbing her, trying to choke her, kill her. A cave of rocks hid this struggle from the rest of world. She had tried to run away from her home, to make things easier on her family. Cam had run to this secret hideaway of rocks when a shadow person attacked her. It scratched her throat, and now blood was running down her neck. She was getting angrier and angrier, the feeling of extreme panic flowing through her veins. Camille tried to kick it off, but to no avail. Her feet went straight through it. She was really panicking now… but something clicked suddenly in her brain. Her eyes narrowed and gradually changed from dark brown to bright white. A faint yellow glow appeared around her body. “What is happening to me?” she screamed as her hands and the rest of her skin turned white. The shadow got off of her, scared. Camille started floating upwards, her hair rapidly changing colors, red to orange to yellow to green to blue to purple, over and over again.
Power surged through her fragile body and sprang from her hands in a yellow beam. Though she was terrified, something in her brain told her to point her hands at the shadow. She did so, and the beam cut through the figure, making it explode and disappear from view. After she slowly descended from the air, she took a good look at her hands and her skin. They were back to normal now, no white skin and eyes, no yellow beams, no rainbow hair. Camille stayed standing, in complete and utter shock. The cave was quiet. It didn’t seem like anything had happened here, but Cam knew something big definitely did. “I’m a Magic One.” thought Camille. The first thing she knew she had to do was tell Kam. He would probably know what to do, right?