Overwhelmed would have been a grievous understatement. Ayda thought having three other people to guide her would help soften the blow of culture shock, but as she made her way through the crowded airport, that couldn't be further from the truth. Her head remained on a constant swivel, as if some physical disability prevented her from keeping it still. She tried to take in everything at once, all the sights and sounds... and smells. Her brain simply didn't know how to comprehend such a vast miasma of stimulus.

There were just so many people. With all the shops, kiosks, sitting areas—along with the sheer size of the place—this was the one thought which kept circulating through her consciousness. How could so many men and women, doubtless completely different in most every way, possibly come together in one space? Surely, such a massive human concentration lead to conflict. Yet, they were peaceful. While Ayda would never call this giant mob organized, the people remained civil, if a little selfish. How could any society function so well? Americans must have been the nicest people on the planet.

Ayda did her best to focus on the given objective of following the Belmont family wherever it was they were going. Despite the distractions, she though her efforts were admirable. She never once strayed from the path, and honestly didn't want to. In such a crowded space, even the simplest of tasks would've been far too much for her to handle. In this, the family acted as more than just guides. They were a mission, something to pull her attention to the right place.

Eventually, Ayda followed the Belmonts into the parking lot. Despite everything she had just seen and experienced inside the airport, nothing could prepare her for the exterior.

Cars. Seated atop this asphalt plain were more cars than Ayda ever could have even imagined existed in the entire world. Every single inch was absolutely dominated by mechanical monsters of all shapes and sizes. Some were old and beaten down, while others were so new and shiny she could hardly stand to look at them. They came in a rainbow of colors, each more brilliant than the last. This must have been the elite upper-crust of the nation. Not everyone in America could afford a car, right? That was just ludicrous to even consider.

The family continued on into the lot and Ayda followed out of habit. She wasn't really paying attention, choosing instead to marvel at the collection of vehicles. Walking among them gave her a better look at several of the specimens. It wasn't just the amount which amazed her, but the sheer variety as well. No two were exactly the same, although many seemed to serve the same purpose. Large SUV's for families, sporty little two-doors, rugged pickup trucks, the categories were repetitive and obvious. So, why were so many different kinds of vehicles necessary to perform the same collection of tasks? Why not just have one kind of truck or one kind of sports car? The variation seemed rather inefficient.

After walking past several rows of parked cars, Bernard led his people off to the left.

"This is us," he said, indicating the automobile in front of him. It was a shiny black sedan, long and slightly boxy in its shape. It had big wheels, a square grille, and rectangular headlights. On a chrome insert just above the license plate were stamped two intertwined letters "RR."

In a split-second calculation, Ayda decided to let everyone else fill in around the vehicle first. She could simply take whatever was left. That way, there would be no confusion as to what seat belonged to her. Bernard, predictably, claimed the driver's seat, and Jackie sat in the back behind him. Emma rode shotgun. This left the back right seat for Ayda.

Having watched Jacqueline open her own door, she learned they were hinged at the back, exactly the opposite of what she expected. It took her a second to figure out how to open the door. Color flushed in her cheeks, she plopped down on the tan leather, purposely avoiding eye contact with anyone else.

As the car growled to life, embarrassment was replaced by surprised delight. Ayda shifted around on the cushion, testing her balance on the soft foam, a bewildered expression on her face. Jacqueline, who had been observing the whole time, beamed at her. She leaned over and reached across Ayda. The latter tensed up slightly, wary of the sudden proximity. Jacqueline grabbed something over her shoulder. The blonde girl pulled a strap across Ayda's chest and fastened a metal buckle in a receptacle beside her. Jackie flashed another smile before returning to her own seat. Ayda noticed she had a similar contraption slung over her own shoulder.

"Do you like the car?" Jacqueline asked. Ayda nodded.

"It's the most comfortable chair I've ever sat in," she said. Everyone laughed as the car pulled out, even though her statement wasn't a joke. She sank back into the leather in a vain attempt to hide herself.

"If you think this is nice, just wait until you see the house," Jacqueline said.

"Why? What's the house like," inquired Ayda.

"Oh, I can't tell you that. It'd ruin the surprise." Jacqueline gave a playful wink. With that little bit of foreshadowing planted firmly in the back of Ayda's mind, they were off, set to comb the vast concrete jungle.

Although she'd seen it from the air on approach, the city looked completely different at ground level. One could barely see the sky through the buildings on either side of the road. Some were impossibly tall, stretching up past heaven itself, while others contained only one story. The juxtaposition was jarring at times. These structures represented several architectural generations, old family business smashed up against modern office buildings.

Ayda kept her face glued to the window the entire time. She wanted to take in everything at once. Every sight and sound was a new experience, although she couldn't hear much over the din of traffic and Bernard's painful disco music. Occasionally, she would crane her neck around to look out Jacqueline's window. The blonde was always polite enough to lean back out of the way, smiling all the time. She must have looked like an idiot, but Ayda didn't really care. This was her great adventure, and she'd be damned to miss anything important.

After what seemed like no time at all, the dense concrete, steel, and glass of the city center gave way to a more relaxed setting. The buildings gradually became more spread out. The design changed as well. These structures were less concerned with saving space. Ayda knew little of American style, but these seemed like homes. That would make this a residential area. Were they getting close to the house?

The concentration of the homes was not the only thing which gradually changed as they left the city. They also became much more opulent. The size and extravagance increased steadily. Ayda had never seen homes so big. She marveled at their expanse. This was the true excess of American culture. Ayda had heard stories about how the rich and important in this country lived, but she never really believed any of it until then. More importantly, though, why was Bernard driving her through such a place?

"We're here, Ayda," Bernard said. "This is your new house." He pointed to a structure up ahead to the left.

Without really thinking, Ayda leaned left to look out the windshield. Her jaw slammed through the car floorboard. The house was... magnificent, impossible. Three stories tall and four big windows wide, it was colored pure white with slanted gray shingles. The ceiling consisted of four peaks. A main one ran lengthwise along the house, and then three more right in a line above each of the center upper-story windows. The center of the house was rounded out in a half-circle, giving brilliant contrast to the straight lines which flanked it. A wrought iron fence and gate separated the house from the road.

"You're kidding," Ayda breathed. "You can't be serious!"

"I am," Bernard said coyly.

"I'm gonna live there?"

"Yes, you are. Welcome to your new home, Ayda."

"I don't believe it. I can't live here. It's a palace." Ayda was talking more to herself at this point.

"It must be quite different from what you're used to," Emma commented. "You'll have everything you need and so much more."

Bernard pulled up to the gate and began fiddling with a number pad attached to his sun visor. After entering a code, the gate opened automatically. He slowly pulled through it into the paved driveway.

"But, is it really okay?" Ayda continued. "I mean, for me to live here, in such a big house? Aren't places like this only for special people?"

"And what makes you think you're not special?" Bernard took on a sudden challenging tone. He paused, collecting his thoughts. "I don't really know how to explain it. I know all of this must be a bit of a shock, but you're living with us now, as a member of our family. This home is as much ours as it is yours."

Ayda sank back in her sat. Just like Bernard, she didn't really know what to say. A large and overpowering portion of her brain rejected the place. There was no way such an impossible building could be her home. It just didn't register in the realm of possibility. It defied all common sense, all logic and natural laws.

Still, another much smaller part of her wanted to believe, needed to believe. The chance to occupy such a gigantic abode—even if just temporarily—made her all giddy inside, like a hundred birthdays wrapped up into a single moment. Joy surged through her veins, the likes of which she'd never known. Back in her home country, only royalty dwelt in domiciles so big, so exuberant. Here, she could live like a queen.

The driveway wrapped around to the right, leading to a detached garage behind the home. Bernard followed it a few feet but stopped just after the front door. When the car had been switched off, he and Emma exited at almost the same time, followed closely by their daughter.

"You're parking here, dear?" Emma inquired.

"I'll bring the car around back later," he replied. "This is just easier right now."

With a confused blink, Ayda realized she was the only one left in the car. She fumbled around with the seatbelt for a moment, but figuring out how to undo it wasn't difficult; just press the obvious button. The strap retracted and she opened the door, stepping out onto the asphalt.

She peered straight up in wonder. It was even bigger up close. From this angle, it seemed to go on forever, its white brilliance illuminating the heavens. It was the most beautiful structure she'd ever seen.

"Come on, let's head inside," Bernard said, leading the way. Ayda hadn't even noticed him come up beside her. She obeyed his request, falling in behind Jacqueline, who glanced quickly over her shoulder just to make sure Ayda indeed followed. The four of them ascended the short staircase to wait while Bernard fiddled with the locks.

He opened up the double doors to permit them entrance. Immediately, Ayda was met with a grand stairway leading up to the second floor, flanked on both sides by doors which led to other parts of the home. To the left was a sitting area, complete with a big red couch, a matching chair off to the side, and the biggest flat screen television she'd ever seen hanging on the dark paneled wall. To the right, another red couch and a white end table, a closed door just past it. The floors were of a medium hardwood, crosshatched so the boards appeared woven.

Ayda spun a full three-sixty, inspecting every inch of the massive space. This room alone, it seemed, was bigger than the average house where she came from. She knew that wasn't actually true, but the fantasy was fun to think about.

"What do you think," Bernard asked, a smile in his voice.

"It's amazing!" Ayda exclaimed. "I mean, I'd heard stories about places like this, but I never thought I'd actually get to see one."

"Well, get used to it," Bernard chuckled. "You'll be seeing a lot of this place."

"I don't believe it," Ayda said. "Thank you so much, sir!" She spoke without thinking. The words just flowed out of her. She colored a little, embarrassed at her sudden show of emotion. Why was she so uncomfortable with expressing gratitude? Thankfulness itself wasn't wrong, so why the resignation?

"Don't mention it," Bernard joked.

"Why don't you show Ayda to her room, Jackie?' Emma suggested.

"Okay! Come on, it's this way." Jackie took off up the stairs. Ayda faltered for a moment before following.

At the top of the stairs was a small landing area with the same flooring pattern as the entrance. It served as little more than a crossroads for all the rooms on the second story. Two sets of stairs wrapped around and back the other way at opposite ends to provide access to the third story.

"That's my room over there." Jackie pointed to a closed door at her right. "And yours is right around the corner here..." She turned left and opened a door just on the other side of the stars. "Ta-da!" She sang, with jazz hands for effect.

Slowly, Ayda took a few steps into the room. Her expression could only be described as the definition of pure and unfathomable amazement. The room was a spacious perfect square, big enough to park a truck in. Fine olive carpet covered the floor. On the left wall was a short and wide bookcase filled with colorful tomes. An adorable teddy bear with a red bow tie perched on the middle shelf. The twin bed sat with headboard against the center of the far wall straight ahead, a tall window directly above it, a white hope chest on the floor at its foot. On the opposite wall from the bed, a plasma television hung above the wooden dresser. Finally, on the right wall, a black and white painting of a lighthouse atop a jagged rock in rough seas.

Ayda couldn't speak. A wash of emotions hit her all at once like a confusing tidal wave. She was happy, sad, confused, and even a little bit angry all at once. Her brain couldn't comprehend any of what was happening. How could she even begin to digest it? Thankfully, Jacqueline was there to save her.

"So, what do you think?" She invited herself in. Ayda snapped out of her daze and looked at the bubbly blonde. "Nice, right? I helped decorate it. I didn't know what colors you'd like for the bed, so I went with a nice neutral grey. It doesn't really match the carpet, though."

"Is..." Ayda collected her thoughts. "Is all this stuff really mine?"

"You bet," Jackie confirmed. "Every bit of it."

"Even the T.V?"

"Of course, silly." Jacqueline giggled. "Don't tell me you've never had your own T.V before."

Ayda shook her head. Jackie leaned forward with wide eyes and mouth agape, as if that were the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.

"Well, everything in here belongs to you. I contributed these." Jackie walked over to the bed to retrieve a lavender button-up blouse Ayda hadn't even noticed. There were matching trousers. She held it up for Ayda to see.

"A shirt?" Ayda raised an eyebrow.

"Pajamas!" clarified Jacqueline. "I thought you'd like to change into something more comfortable when you got here. They used to be mine. I hope you don't mind my hand-me-downs."

"They're perfect," Ayda took the shirt. "Thank you." For the first time in what felt like forever, Ayda did something which had almost become completely foreign to her. She smiled.

"I'm so glad you're happy," Jackie returned the expression ten-fold. An awkward silence stretched between them, as neither was really sure what to say next. "Well, I guess I'll let you get changed and stuff. Feel free to come downstairs whenever you like."

"Okay," replied Ayda simply.

Jackie spared one last curl of her lips before departing. Ayda hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath. Dropping the shirt onto the bed, she fiddled with the zipper in the back of her dress. It slid loudly and the garment fell around her ankles. Ayda stepped out of the fabric pile and retrieved the pants. She pulled them on in one swift motion. They were silky and soft, like wearing a pillow.

"Hey, Ayda, I forgot to mention that—" Jacqueline's voice preceded her presence in the open door. A startled gasp escaped from her lips. Ayda was also surprised. She let out an uncharacteristic yelp and turned to the door, face ashen as it could be.

"Don't you ever knock, Jacqueline?"

"No." Jacqueline shook her head. "Ayda..." She stepped into the room. Ayda shied away, but it was not her nakedness—bare save for her bra—which gave her such shame.

Ayda's torso was covered in scars. Most were the remnants of stitched up cuts. They sprung up through her skin at random intervals, at least a dozen in total. On her right hip bone was a dark, mottled pattern left behind by a severe burn. An awful, twisted bit of flesh on her left shoulder indicated where something had passed clean through. Perhaps most chilling, however, was a vertical cut which ran along her sternum. It must have missed her heart by millimeters.

With gentle guidance, Jackie sat Ayda down on the bed. The latter wore a look of utter defeat. These marks were a travesty, the remnants of old failures. Each one represented a time where she should have been better, a time when the perfect warrior in her had slipped. At least, that's what Dr. Vahlen always said.

Jacqueline ran ginger fingers along some of the marks, tracing them with short, tender sweeps. Her touch was sweet. Her hands were cold.

"Oh my God, Ayda," she breathed. "When they told us what you'd been through, I never imagined it would be this bad."

Ayda hastily put her shirt on, glad to be covered up. She wasn't exactly at the "seeing each other in their underwear" stage with Jacqueline just yet. Although, there she was slightly more concerned with something else in that moment.

"They told you about me?" She inquired with a cautious tone.

"Some stuff, yeah," Jackie said as if it were no big deal.

"What kind of stuff, Jacqueline?" Ayda insisted.

"When we were approached about taking you in, the military told us a little bit about what you'd been through. They said you were kidnapped when you were six, that your real parents were killed. They said a bad man did horrible things to you, but they never said what or why."

"Anything else?"

"No, that's about it," Jacqueline shrugged. "Dad knows more, but that's all they told me and Mom."

Ayda looked away. She was glad her secret was safe, but part of her hated everything Jacqueline did know. Jackie knew she was different, that she wasn't like all the other girls. Ayda didn't want to be different. All her life, the only thing she'd ever wanted was to be a normal child. Jackie's revelation only served to reinforce the reality that she never would.

Jacqueline immediately picked up on the shift in tone. She placed a gentle hand on Ayda's wrist, little more than a light brush of fingertips.

"But, Ayda, none of that matters to me," she said with a dire sincerity. Ayda met her gaze. "What matters is I'm your big sister, now, and there isn't a force in the world strong enough to take that away. I'll always be here to protect you, to comfort you, and to guide you. There'll be no more scars, not as long as I have anything to say about it. I promise."

Ayda took on a curious cock to her head. With how incredible her fist day in America had gone so far, she almost believed what Jacqueline said. What little optimism remained within her wanted to, more than anything. But, she'd had people make wide, sweeping promises to her before. They spoke of changing the world, of needing her help to do it. That didn't exactly turn out so well. No matter how kind or pure, one teenager could never keep out all the bad things.

But she wasn't in that place anymore. This was a whole new world, literally on the other side of the planet. It couldn't be more different from her cell, and all she had to do for proof of that was look around. Her eyes fell upon the teddy bear on the bookshelf, her bookshelf. Something so cute and useless would never have been allowed in the research facility. Here, it existed without a care. If that dumb little toy could live unworried in this world, then why couldn't she?

So Ayda ignored her instincts. She ignored her past experiences with empty promises. She ignored the fact that, if anyone did the protecting around here, it was her. Ayda replaced all of this with something she hadn't allowed herself to have for so long, she almost forgot what it felt like. It was just a shimmer, a glow off in the distance, but it was there. For the first time in six years, Ayda allowed herself to hope.

"Okay," was all she said.

"Hey," Jacqueline began, "why don't we go shopping tomorrow, just us girls: you, me, and Mom? You can pick out some nice clothes, and we'll stop for ice cream on the way home. Sound good?"

Although there were probably much more important things Ayda could have said right then, only one thought ran pervasive through her mind.

"What's ice cream?" She said. Again, Jacqueline looked absolutely astonished.

"Tell me you're joking," she implored. Ayda shook her head. "Ice cream is probably the best thing in the world. I's cold and sweet and refreshing and I know you'll just love it." She couldn't help but get excited. "So, how about it? Girls' day out?"

"Okay," Ayda nodded.

"Good." Jackie smiled. She wiped a stray hair from Ayda's cheek. Her eyes took on a sudden puzzled slant. "I came in here to tell you something, but now I can't remember what it was." They both laughed. "Well if I remember what it was, I'll come back again." Jackie stood and began to leave.

"I'll holler when dinner is ready," she said. Jacqueline paused at the door and turned back to Ayda. "Have you ever had pizza before," the blonde asked. Ayda again shook her head. Jackie wore a devilish grin. "I have so much to teach you."

Again, Jacqueline started for the exit and actually left this time. Ayda began fastening the buttons on her new shirt. She didn't really know what the appeal of clothes shopping was, but she was excited to try this ice cream Jackie so greatly praised. She wiped a dry tear from her face. Her first day in America had been splendid, and the next sounded like a success as well.