There has been no sign yet of any enemy activity in Joanna’s vicinity. Nothing dark or suspicious, no one nearby who does not have the full trust of the family. I have hardly left Joanna’s side, and whenever I have, Taralom has kept watch for me—happy little Joanna has charmed even him. Neither of us have seen any trace of anything.
It is my theory, and my seniors agree, that when the attack does come, it will take the form of an accident. Joanna’s family has little need to leave the house just now, and when they do, they certainly don’t take her with them. They have no visitors, and the families in their neighborhood all keep themselves isolated as well. There are a few young boys who are permitted to meet one another on the street and ride their bikes together, but they rarely come anywhere near Christy’s house, and when they do, it’s only to look longingly over the fence at her pool. But there is a pool, and there are three sets of stairs, and Joanna is walking now and not the kind of child who enjoys sitting still. So I must be watchful, and be sure that her family is, also.
Far be it from me to wish that this would happen sooner, but I can’t help but worry about my friends. There is still far too much work for Guardians—we are being pressed hard, more of us being trained as scouts for the hunt, the rest left to cover the work left behind. I have not seen Inca more than twice in the last month, and both of those times she was almost too exhausted to speak. In such a time, I feel guilty that I should be sitting in a child’s sunny bedroom singing her lullabies. I know that this is important—indeed, I don’t think I could tear myself away from Joanna if I wanted to, not while there’s even the slightest chance that she might be hurt. But I do wish that I could be in two places at once.