I have come to a conclusion after three days of watching Cyanide and Arsenic move around my house like tiny startled ghosts.
Children should not be too quiet. It was unnerving in its own way.
Yes, yes. I know some children are naturally calm and shy. Some are polite little dumplings who speak only when spoken to. Some are little philosophers who stare at beetles and question the meaning of life before breakfast. That is fine. It is perfectly acceptable.
But Cyanide and Arsenic were not quiet because they were shy. They were quiet because noise had once brought them pain.
That kind of silence made my skin crawl. It was a far cry from the children I've encountered in the past. Even ones from the orphanages.
The first day, they flinched whenever a door opened.
The second day, Arsenic hid behind a curtain because one of the servants accidentally dropped a tray in the corridor.
The poor maid cried so hard after realizing what happened that I ended up comforting her too.
