"Thank you for your time." I tell Head Chef Francois, while Robin adds to his notes. "Your story was a real eye-opener."

"No, thank you for listening to me ramble on! I haven't seen any of the other candidates taking the time to come out and get to know people." The man tells us, half focused on his cooking. The flames of the stove are licking up the edge of his wok. The smell of mouth-watering food permeates the air of the restaurant, even from across the counter. He finally looks me in the eyes when he says, "You've earned my respect, Chief. And my vote."

"I'll hold you to that!" I point a finger at him, smiling.

Robin and I exit the establishment and pull out our list. He then checks the time on his wristwatch, a recent purchase he made after saving up the money. It was made by Lilli in this very city, and it's got his name engraved on the back. He gives it a wipe, removing a smudge on its otherwise crystal-clear face.

"Okay, this is great progress. If we keep this pace, you'll meet today's quota before sundown."

In an attempt to learn more about the city and its people, I'm visiting twenty inhabitants per day, for a week. This is day three, and we've already spoken with fifteen individuals since leaving home this morning. Our current goal is to speak with at least two houses in each of the residential blocks, as well as each of the business owners in the city center. Given the short time until elections, this is the best we can do without wearing ourselves out. I'm not as young as I used to be, nor can I ask Robin for any more of his time. I would have done this alone if he hadn't appointed himself my unofficial campaign manager. 

"Good. I would like to head back to the residential district next. Where did we leave off?"

We are making progress, reaching out to lots of people, asking them about their history. I have learned so much in such a brief time. It is partly due to how open the residents of the city are. 

The benefit of the doubt is not something I would personally give a stranger. I have always been wary of others, it is in my nature. Until I'm certain I can trust someone, I keep them at a distance. Such caution is practically non-existent here. 

Perhaps my line of thinking needs to change?

"We've hit blocks A through L. Block M is next, if you want to keep going alphabetically."

"Why not? What we don't finish today, we will resume tomorrow."

Robin sighs loudly, rubbing the back of his neck as we walk. He shakes his head, staring at me with a funny look on his face.

"What is it, dear?"

"I'm amazed. I don't know how you do it." He gestures to our list, displaying it for me. "It's not just the number of people, but the attention you gave each and every one. Some of those stories were very difficult to hear."

"They certainly were."

"Yet, you're unfazed. You knew just what to say to make them feel understood and acted so sympathetic. I was ready to flip a table, I was so mad."

"People want strong leaders. One can display compassion without breaking down in tears or exploding into a rage. It's not a good look, you know."

"Clearly I've much to learn."

While our talk with the Chef had been pleasant, most of the stories we've heard weren't. He'd come from a peaceful little settlement in a storage room on Jeannine's university campus. She brought them here, and the rest is history. Hearing him tell us that was like a breath of fresh air after what we'd heard. Some people are so fortunate. Others do not know the meaning of the word. 

I am loath to refer to myself as anything other than a proud, Lilliputian woman. Using Brobdingnagian terminology, I would be considered a former Remnant. Semantics aside, I'm well aware of the struggles people like us face. Our stories share a similar theme. Many of us managed to avoid interacting with Brobs altogether, thankfully. The people who endured Lilli trafficking, however, were not so lucky. 

I think the stories that struck me the most were the ones about Brob culture. It's no secret that they consider all smaller life inferior. The lives of Lillis wouldn't be nearly as tumultuous if only they gave a damn. I will not claim that all Brobs are terrible monsters, but their size certainly makes them a threat to our existence. They trample and crush without even realizing it. For that, I do not blame them. What reasonable person would be careful of every step they took? No, it's the intentional cruelty that I am condemning. You would think that abusing Lillis had to be done in private, since we're 'protected' by the law. Apparently not. As I've recently learned from a neighbor, there are numerous cruelties that take place in broad daylight. 

There are three stories that will definitely haunt my dreams.

The first involved their social media. A Brob girl, around Jeannine's age, was a so-called 'influencer'. She'd been losing followers due to putting out low-effort content and was looking to do something 'controversial' to regain internet fame. Apparently, there had been a short-lived trend involving tormenting Lillis through challenges. Sometimes she would force them to run through obstacle courses of stationary on her desk while she recorded them with her phone. They would go hours without rest. Other times, she would chase them with around with her pen, threatening to run them over with the tip. Every so often, that 'threat' would prove to be very real. The worst of these challenges had her dropping people into a glass of water while she tried to drink it without swallow them. I have no doubt that many lost their lives in that freezing water. Such an end would've been preferable to disappearing down her throat, I suppose. The trend was met with intense, but short-lived backlash. Although it's mostly stopped, those who partook in it still benefit from the new followers it had earned them. 

As the young man from Block F told us his story, he was shivering. By the end of it, he was a mess.

The second story involved their advertising campaigns. According to the woman from Block B, it's a little-known fact that toothpaste companies use Lillis to give their actors whiter teeth. To achieve the illusion of a better product, they place teams of Lillis on their teeth, scrubbing their teeth until they're pearly white. They spend hours in a place that's hot, humid, and generally very disgusting. It is dangerous, given how they are only secured by a flimsy harness around their waists. Each breath produces a draft that could blow them away or suck them in. It is free labour, so many take advantage of it. Those poor Lillis must comply, else they be promptly disposed of. She told us that there was a time when her client licked his teeth, knocking her off. She hung there, dangling above the giant's cavernous maw for two hours before they brought her back to safety. I can only imagine the terror she felt in those painful minutes.

The third story is extremely rare compared to the other two, but it is by far the most egregious. The couple from Block G told us about how their town had been massacred for entertainment. The use of Lilli-built props had been becoming increasingly popular in Brob movies. Due to the costs of special effects, it was much cheaper for production companies to use practical ones. Their entire town was scooped up from the countryside, a place where Brobs are forbidden from going, and taken to a studio. Once there, each part of it was carefully destroyed in different ways to produce impressively realistic shots. The 'model' city, as they called it, was flooded, burned, crushed, and buried. The terrified screams and panicked reactions of the residents seemed authentic because they weren't scripted. Lives were snuffed out without any regard for Lilli rights or common courtesy. 

They told us that after the filming had been completed, less than twenty people had survived out of the thousand that had lived there. They'd lost their only child to collapsing building, as well as other friends and family. I didn't dare ask them to share the details. The survivors were sold and the rubble that was once their home was swept away like dirt. Robin couldn't even hear the full story. He politely excused himself halfway though, and understandably so. I can't think of a more appalling disregard for the lives of those who can't defend themselves.

That nightmare of an experience nearly broke me. As I listened, I imagined the same thing happening to our clan. I imagined losing the people I am responsible for, powerless to do anything to save them. And to lose my only daughter, Sophie, or Robin, for that matter... I don't know if I could go on. Everyone has a weakness, even me. I don't know how I would carry on living without them.

Suddenly, I stop walking. I gaze at Robin fondly, who looks at me with confusion. I am normally not a very affectionate person, but those stories have made me quite emotional. I beckon him over, putting my hands on his face when he does. I pull his head down and bring my lips to his forehead to kiss it.

"I love you, son. You and Sophie are everything to me. I hope you know that."

"I do. So does she..."

His confused expression has become even more confused after my actions. It begins to irritate me, so I let go of his head and try to push him away. He stands up straight, unmoved from his place. The look on his faces then changes to understanding. He is piecing it together, slowly.

"Good. But don't expect me to say it everyday. Words lose their meaning when they're overused."

"Is that so?" He laughs, shaking his head at me. "We love you too, Ma. I'll pass the message to Sophie for you."

I roll my eyes and resume walking. He is quick to follow suit, rushing to my side like usual. 

Despite my best efforts not to act on my emotions, I find myself walking close to him, almost leaning. There is no exchange of words as he offers his arm to me. I take it, holding tightly to him as we make our way through the city. 

I am grateful for my family. Not just them, but my entire clan. I am even beginning to care for the people of this city. Though it means little, I take a moment to mourn those who perished. They were real people. Parents, friends, and co-workers that did not deserve to what they were subjected. Any yet, none of them claim to be victims. Rather than blame the world for dealing them a bad hand, they are constantly moving forward. Even after losing their old lives, they are proudly making new ones for themselves here, in a city that defies all reason. I look up at the sky, far beyond the borders of the city, to the young woman sitting on her bed, engrossed in her studies. None of this would have been possible without her.

"I'm beginning to see that now." I whisper, quietly.

I've heard a lot about Jeannine from others. I have a clear picture of what people think of her now. It's obvious to me why everyone adores her. To be honest, she's beginning to win me over as well. Almost. Though, despite what I've heard, I do take issue with the way she runs things. She's neglected some key safety precautions, likely unintentionally, and City Hall seems to be an utter mess. I must give Mr. Nick credit for shouldering such responsibility alone for so long. Moreover, this city has enormous potential. I would hate to see if wasted when I can do something about it. Many of my questions have already been answered, but there are just as many that remain. I need to continue speaking with the citizens. By the end of the week, I'll likely have reached the limit of what can be gleamed from others. After that, I will need to change my approach. What I am seeking to understand will be much more...personal.

The time for her and me to formally meet is quickly approaching.