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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wiman”,

said, “You’re one funny ki- I

me

* * *

to bed. I kissed her head and said, “Sweet dreams, mon ange.” Then

great so I didn’t understand who was screaming. Soon, I realized they were coming from

pitiful and painful sights I had ever seen. Callie was writhing in bed, her face contorted in agony. She was so little to be

that she didn’t start screaming again. I was after all, unfamiliar to her and the last thing I wanted

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arms and woke her up and started murmuring nonsensical

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

herself into my arms and sobbed

never leave

promise.”, I said solemnly.”What did you dream

were gone just like my

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