Charles and his kid brother weren’t scared of the storm. They knew it was just wind and rain and noise, like a little dog barking its head off from behind a fence.
While all the other kids at Saint Peter’s orphanage cowered in their bunks, he and his brother had free run over all the best toys in the playroom. It was the only thing that made up for being cooped up inside while it poured.
But as they rounded the corner into the play room, they were too late.
The five Insenotti sisters had already claimed the playroom for their own. The sisters said they were descended from Italian nobility, and lorded over the rest of the orphans enough that some kids believed them.
Leo, never one for subtlety, stomped forward and demanded the girls leave.
The eldest Insenott sister stood up from the floor, towering over the brothers. Charles heard Leo gulp.
“Beat it, peasant,” she growled “And maybe, I won’t crack your head like eggs for an omelette!”
Leo looked back at Charles and mouthed “A what?”, but Charles was equally baffled and just shrugged awkwardly. They had no idea what an omelette was, but it sounded painful.
For over a hundred years Saint Peter’s orphanage was a bastion of safety for wayward and abandoned children in Memphis. The orphanage was part of Saint Peter’s church, whose nuns stayed to treat the sick during the Yellow Fever epidemic. The church is still open, although the orphanage has been moved to a third party.