Find them.

Cold.

"The water is cold."

Turning the faucet on hot doesn't do anything. The water stays cold. With a groan, Naomi turns off the tap and shakes off the excess water from her hands. Grabbing a hand towel, she dries her hands as she looks to the side. Of course, her apartment is empty. Lonely. Naomi sighs, putting the hand towel back on its ring. She grabs the bottom hem of her shirt and tugs it down to straighten it out. Looking at her apartment door, she walks to it, looking adjacent to it on the floor where her shoes lie. She slips them both on, putting her hand on the doorknob, and in a matter of seconds, Naomi is out the door and heading down the hall to the staircase. As she passes a couple of doors, she glances at the apartment number plaques to the right of each door. Apt. 702, Apt. 701. Assuming the neighbors will never meet her, Naomi walks to the end of the hall and speeds down the staircase. She occasionally skips a step with a smile on her face. Within a few minutes, she reaches the bottom and leaves through the front doors, passing by the office. As she walks outside, the cold air rushes over her, causing Naomi to shudder. She shakes her head and looks at the fountain. Nobody is there.

"Mom said there are markets in the morning," Naomi mumbles, looking up to the sky. "It's not noon yet, and it's about after seven." After a moment of staring at the fountain, she clears the thought from her mind and starts walking toward the Heathmore houses. The only noise she can hear is the dry grass crunching under her feet and the birds chirping in the skies.

Reaching the houses, she takes a moment to recall which house was her parents'. Staying on the left of the plot, she walks to the second row. The first house on the second row is her parents'. Glad she remembers, she walks to their front door, but she notices the lights in the house are off. Reaching the door, she knocks. A moment of silence, and there's no answer. She knocks again, harder. No response. Naomi scoffs and walks away from the door, kicking a nearby pebble.

"Of course they lied!" Naomi grumbles, "Who am I kidding? They don't keep their promises. Why would I think-"

"Could you quiet down!?" A feminine voice yells out from a couple of yards away. Naomi looks over to find a ginger-haired woman, standing a ways down the row with her arms crossed and a glare on her face. The deep, slightly rough voice states, "You're being incredibly loud."

"Oh, um..." Naomi looks around a little, then back at her. "Uh, did you see Rascal and Blanche go anywhere? They said to come here in the morning for breakfast, but they aren't here..."

"Blanche didn't keep her word? Odd." The woman hums.

Naomi snickers a little, fiddling with her hands. "No, it isn't. She lies all the time."

"Be nice, Naomi." The woman says lowly.

"Oh, wait, um, you are...Ah, damn it, Topaz, right?" Naomi asks, walking closer to the woman.

"You remembered my name, cute. Ah, you were such a tiny little thing... You look too much like your father," the woman, Topaz, laughs. "Although, you have your mother's eye shape... But where did those freckles come from? Neither of your parents-"

"Okay, enough questions!" Naomi raises her voice a little. "What are you doing out here?"

"I'm coming out of my house? Alice wasn't here this morning when I woke up. It's unlike her. She sleeps heavily and late." Topaz puts a hand up to smooth out her hair, even though it's already smooth. "But she's probably at the market. That woman loves a good deal."

"The market isn't open." Naomi's eyebrows furrow a little.

"What? It's always open." Topaz states.

Naomi looks behind her, crossing her arms. "That's kind of creepy."