It was the day after I had moved in. Callie had already warmed up to me and was not as fussy as the first day. We were in the living room after I had picked Callie from school. I was now friends with the Indian driver who was teaching me Hindi.

Presently, she was telling me about her day at school which made me start asking myself questions. Where was Callie’s mother? I did not ask anything at the interview because I did not want to seem nosy. But now I was so so curious.

Callie went on, oblivious to my inner pondering. “…And then Sheila said I should push Lou and call herself a fat popotamus.”

“Did you do it, hun?”, I asked.

“No”, the kid replied proudly.

“That’s good”, was my reply. Then I ruffled Callie’s hair

“Stop that”, she said “I’m not a kid”

“Oh, then what are you?”, I asked intrigued

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a wiman”, Callie replied

laughed and said, “You’re one

Callie graced me with a

* * *

and said, “Sweet dreams, mon ange.” Then went to my

by screams at night. I was startled. The day had been great so I didn’t understand who was screaming. Soon, I realized they were coming from Callie’s room

flung the door open and was met with one of the most pitiful and painful sights I had ever seen. Callie was writhing in bed, her face contorted in agony. She was so little

I placed my hands on her hair and smoothed it, praying that she didn’t start screaming again. I was after all, unfamiliar to

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her up and started murmuring nonsensical words

cry honey. It’s Okay. It was just a horrible dream,

my arms and sobbed

promise you’ll never leave me”, she

said solemnly.”What did you dream of,

you were gone

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