The girl had no single idea what did Natasha mean. She had no recollection of meeting Natasha either.
"What do you mean by that, Miss?" she asked.
Natasha realized that what she told sounded weird, so she should clear that up. "By any chance, did you lost something recently?"
"I lost something?" she murmured. She tried to recall what she lost and then something clicked. "Oh, that's right!"
"Just as I thought," Natasha said.
She wondered how come Natasha knew that. "How did you—" and then she realized why. "I get it. You know about that because you have it."
Natasha revealed the school id. "Hello, Miss Marigold Cinnamon."
She was relieved that someone found her school id and then returned it. She would get into more trouble once she completely lost her school id.
"Thank you, Miss!" she knew that thank you wasn't enough. "You helped me a lot, so I want to return something!"
Natasha shook her head. "You don't have to, Miss Cinnamon."
"No," Marigold refused. "I insist to return something, Miss. I don't take a no."
"If so," Natasha doubted that she wouldn't able to refuse Marigold, so she might as well accept what she wanted to. "What is it you want to return, Miss Cinnamon?"
"Let's have a nice chat with cakes and coffees at Starbucks, Miss," Marigold answered.
"Right now?" Natasha asked. "If so, I'll have to refuse."
Marigold shook her head. "No. I suppose you have a business before this mess happened, so," she showed her phone. "I'll have you press your number on this phone to tell when and where will that happen."
Natasha held the phone of Marigold, pressed her number, saved it, and then returned it to Marigold. "Here."
"I look forward to it, Miss," Marigold said.
Natasha smiled. "I also look forward to that."
Marigold watched Natasha until she went back to Subway. She realized that she didn't ask for the name of Natasha.
She sighed. "It was all too late for that."
She was about to put her phone back in the pocket of her pants when she recalled that Natasha pressed her number. There might be a chance Natasha had a saved name, so she unlocked her phone in haste.
She was glad that there was a saved name. "So it's Natasha Lee."
Cassie had acquired their orders. She ate her sandwich in a small portion. She saw Natasha entered and then glared.
Natasha could sense the hidden anger in the glare of Cassie. She expected that this would happen.
She sat on the seat. "Yo, Cass. Is it delicious?"
"It is," she could tell that Cassie sounded so irritated.
"Sorry about that," she knew what she did.
Cassie couldn't keep up getting mad at Natasha. "It's all right. How ironic of me getting all worked up about this when I also just watched you get into trouble before with that scary senior and a liar."
She shook her head. "Now, let's not blame ourselves or each other."
"Yeah," Cassie agreed. "You should eat your sandwich when it's still warm."
Natasha beamed. "Thanks for finishing our orders in the kiosk, Cass."
Cassie smiled. "You're very welcome, Nat."
**
Marigold saw Baker was in the living room, reading a newspaper while listening to music in his earphones. She told him that she would be home earlier than him, but obviously, that didn't happen, so she would sneak to avoid questions from him that sounded like an interrogation.
"You took a while than expected, Mari," she got chills on her spine once she heard Baker spoke. He folded the newspaper, placed it on the table, removed his earphones on his ears, and then looked at Marigold. "Words?"
"I didn't foresee Olivia would extend our hang out time, Brother," Marigold reasoned. She hesitated for a bit to tell what happened earlier, but she didn't want to hide something from Baker, so she would tell it. "One more thing, I splashed whatever drink was that to those scumbags because they talked nonsense about you, so I got into trouble for that."
"You what!? You should—" Marigold didn't let Baker finish what he had to tell.
"And don't worry about those scumbags, I wasn't hurt," Marigold assured. "You taught me how to defend myself, so how can I get hurt? But I didn't expect someone would help me in that situation, and that's kind of rare, now that I think about it."
"Someone helped?" Baker scowled. "It's not a boy, is it?"
Marigold huffed in disbelief. "You're not Father to react like that."
"Do not avert the topic, Mari," Baker reasoned.
She didn't want to drag this any longer, so she would answer. "It's not, stupid Brother!"
Baker narrowed his eyes. "Should I believe that?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes. You. Should."
"Fine," Baker decided to believe what Marigold told. He stood up from his seat and then patted the head of Marigold. "I am glad, but you should not waste your time if those scumbags talked ill of me. Got it?"
"I wouldn't guarantee that, Brother," she stuck out her tongue.
"You little—" she ascended the stairs in haste before he could finish what he had to tell.
Baker forgot to ask who helped her, but it didn't matter. He was confident that he would find it out sooner or later.