"Look what I have here," Stephen said while showing off two satin outfits with Disney Princesses on them. The style was for a young girl, but the outfits, squareneck crop tops with puffed sleeves with matching satin skirts, were sized for adults.

"What about them?" Rachel asked.

"Let's put them on and pretend to be little girls."

"What?"

"You heard me. We'll put them on and pretend to be little girls. It'll be fun."

Rachel and Steven had used The Glimmer to make them appear to be anyone they wanted. There were hot babes, handsome gentlemen, fat guys, all sorts of people. But never children. Now Steven wanted to pretend to be children.

"You have got to be kidding."

"No, it'll be fun. We'll walk to the park. Let's see what it's like to be kids."

"Both of us little girls?"

"Yeah sure. We can do little boys later."

"What if I'm the girl and your the boy?"

"At that age, girls usually don't play with boys. We'll give it a try. If we have a problem, we'll come straight home."

"OK," Rachel agreed, "but I want the blue outfit, you can wear the pink."

"Sure."

To be realistic, they started with white panties and white tights. Then they put on the crop top first and the skirt atfer. Finally they complete the outfit with white Mary Janes.

"Ready?"

"Yeap."

The walked out in the street and held each other's hand as the strolled, smiling broadly. As far as anyone knew, they were just two little girls walking.

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Mrs. Stewart was out for her afternoon walk when she spotted two young girls, no older than ten, strolling along the sidewalk by themselves. The girls, both with long, tangled hair and Disney crop tops with matching skirts, seemed to be deep in conversation, giggling and whispering as they walked. Something about the sight didn't sit right with Mrs. Stewart. It was unusual for children so young to be wandering alone, especially without an adult nearby. Concerned, she decided to approach them.

"Hello there, girls," Mrs. Stewart called out, smiling warmly as she caught up with them. "Are you two lost? Where are your parents?"

The two girls stopped and exchanged glances but said nothing. They looked at each other as if deciding what to do, but neither answered Mrs. Stewart's question. One of them, the girl in pink, fidgeted nervously, while the other, who had a bolder expression, stared back at Mrs. Stewart without a word.

Mrs. Stewart's concern deepened. "It's not safe for you to be out here all by yourselves. How about you tell me who your parents are, and we'll figure out how to get you home?"

"We are alright...um our mommies said we could go to the park."

Mrs. Stewart's attempts to get more information were met with stubborn silence, and after a few minutes, she realized she wasn't going to get anywhere with them. Frowning, she pulled out her phone and called security, explaining the situation.

Before long, a security officer arrived and gently ushered the girls over to the security office, Mrs. Stewart following behind. The girls, still refusing to speak, exchanged furtive glances but cooperated quietly as they were led inside.

Once seated in the security office, the officer tried once again to get some answers. "Okay, girls, we're here to help. We just want to know who you are and how to get you back to your parents. Can you tell us your names? Anything at all?"

But the girls remained tight-lipped. They sat together on a small bench, looking down at their hands, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. No matter how many times they were asked, they wouldn't say their names or anything about where they came from. The officer, growing frustrated but still patient, asked if they had a phone number, a house nearby, or even if they remembered who dropped them off.

Nothing.

As the minutes dragged on, Mrs. Stewart watched the scene unfold, growing more anxious. She couldn't understand why the girls wouldn't speak up. Were they scared? Hiding something?

The officer, not wanting to scare the girls further, softened his tone. "We just need to make sure you're safe. If you tell us how to reach your family, we can make sure you get home."

Still, there was no response. The girls exchanged a final look and then simply stared ahead, their small faces unreadable, locked in a secret that they refused to share.

Finally, after exhausting all efforts, the officer called in additional personnel to help figure out what to do next. Mrs. Stewart, still lingering at the edge of the room, felt a growing sense of helplessness. She had only wanted to help, but now the mystery of the two silent girls left everyone baffled, wondering who they were and why they wouldn't reveal their identities.

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After an hour of fruitless questioning, the decision was made to call Child Welfare. A calm, middle-aged woman named Ms. Harlow, who had seen her fair share of difficult cases, arrived at the security office. She was kind but firm, experienced with children who were scared or unsure. As soon as she walked in, Ms. Harlow assessed the situation with a quick glance at the two girls, who were still sitting silently on the bench.

"Hi, girls," she said softly. "My name is Ms. Harlow. I'm here to help you, okay? There's nothing to be afraid of."

But the girls remained just as they had been---silent, staring straight ahead. They didn't acknowledge her words, didn't even flinch. Their refusal to speak was resolute, a silent wall between them and the adults who were growing increasingly concerned.

Ms. Harlow tried various approaches, asking about their favorite foods, colors, or games, but nothing drew a response. After a long pause, she sighed, exchanging a glance with the security officer. "We'll have to take them to the shelter," she said quietly, and the officer nodded in agreement.

A short while later, the girls were gently guided into a Child Welfare vehicle. They still didn't speak, and their expressions remained unreadable, but they complied, walking in silence. Ms. Harlow sat in the front seat, watching them through the rearview mirror as they drove to the children's shelter.

Upon arrival, the girls were led into a large, clean facility where other children played or did homework. The shelter workers, accustomed to helping kids in difficult situations, greeted them kindly. The girls were shown to a room where they could change into fresh clothes---simple uniforms that matched what the other girls at the shelter were wearing: soft blue T-shirts and gray sweatpants.

They were given hot meals, but even then, the girls barely touched the food, nibbling at the edges of their plates but refusing to engage. The shelter workers didn't push them. The goal for now was to make them feel safe and cared for.

Later, as they settled into their new surroundings, the girls were given a shared room with two neatly made beds. The room was cozy, with bright posters on the walls and a small window letting in the evening light. Each bed had a set of identical pajamas folded neatly at the foot, waiting for them.

As night fell, the girls changed into their matching pajamas, blending in with the other children at the shelter. They still hadn't spoken a word, their identities shrouded in silence, but for now, they had a warm bed and the comfort of knowing they were safe, even if they remained hidden behind their quiet mystery.

The workers at the shelter hoped that, in time, the girls would open up. For now, they were two anonymous figures, their reasons for silence still locked away, leaving everyone wondering who they were and where they came from.

When the lights went out, Rachel whispered, "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. We can't tell them now. Look at us, we are two adults surrounded by children. It's even worse for me, I'm a man. They'd arrest me for sure."

"We can't stay like this forever."

"We just have to escape. Once we do that, we'll release The Glimmer and disappear. They will never know it was us."

"How are we going to do that?"

"This is a shelter, not a prison. We'll find an opportunity."

"I hope so."

Rachel and Stephen tried to go to sleep. It was hard as they had a lot on their minds. Rachel couldn't believe the trouble they got into. Who would have thought that being children would be more dangerous than the adults they impersonated?

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The next morning at the shelter, the two silent girls, still in their matching blue T-shirts and gray sweatpants, awoke to the soft sound of morning chatter in the hallway. Other children were getting ready for breakfast, some laughing, others groggy and quiet. The sunlight streamed through the small window in their room, casting a gentle glow on the beds and walls.

Rachel and Stephen exchanged a glance as they got up, still without speaking. They hadn't said a word to anyone, not even to each other in the presence of the shelter staff. They followed the routine like shadows, blending into the rhythms of the shelter's daily life.

After washing up, they joined the other children in the dining area. It was a large room filled with long tables and benches. The smell of scrambled eggs, toast, and oatmeal filled the air, and the children lined up to get their breakfast trays. The two girls quietly took their place in line, watching as the other kids chatted about TV shows, school, and games.

One girl, a tall and energetic ten-year-old named Lucy, approached them at breakfast. Lucy was curious and bold, with curly hair tied back in a bright pink scrunchie. "Hey! You're new, right? What's your name?" she asked cheerfully, sliding onto the bench beside them.

Rachel and Stephen hesitated, looking at each other as if deciding what to do. Finally, Rachel shook her head slightly but didn't respond. Lucy frowned for a second, but quickly shrugged it off. "That's okay. You don't have to talk if you don't want to. Do you wanna play after breakfast? We're gonna do hopscotch outside."

They said nothing, their silence creating a small bubble around them in the noisy room. After Lucy gave them one last smile, she got up to join her friends, leaving the two of them alone at their table.

After breakfast, the day at the shelter moved into its usual activities. Some of the younger kids went to classes, while others stayed behind for arts and crafts. Rachel and Stephen were directed to a common area where the children could draw, play board games, or read. They sat side by side on the floor near a shelf of books, watching the other children play but never fully joining in.

At one point, a younger girl named Molly, about six years old, toddled over to them with a stack of coloring books and crayons. "Do you wanna color with me?" she asked shyly, holding out a page with a half-colored butterfly.

Stephen took a crayon but remained silent, carefully filling in the wings of the butterfly while Molly chattered on about how much she loved the color purple.

After lunch, the staff took the children outside to the playground. The day was bright, with the sun warming the pavement, and laughter echoed from the swings and jungle gym. Rachel and Stephen watched from the edge of the play area, sitting quietly on a bench. Rachel observed Lucy and her friends hopscotching, racing to see who could jump through the chalked squares the fastest. Occasionally, Lucy would wave at Rachel, beckoning her to join. Stephen walked around the perimeter looking for an escape route. If he could be alone for just a few moments, he could return to his former appearance. His uniform probably wouldn't be recognized when it appeared to be worn by an adult.

Stephen found an escape route. He beckoned to Rachel who joined him. "On three!" he said. The two bolted for the exit. All they had to do was get out of sight of the matrons from the shelter. As long as they didn't see them return to their normal form there wouldn't be a problem. The blue shirt and gray sweatpants were unisex. No one would recognize them.

The events after the escape were anticlimactic. They borrowed a phone, and called a friend who picked them up and brought them home.

They agreed that the next time one of them Glammed into a child, the other one would stay an adult.

End.