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

“You’re one

me with a

* * *

I put Callie to bed. I kissed her head and

I didn’t understand who was screaming. Soon, I

was met with one of the most pitiful and painful sights I had ever seen. Callie was writhing in bed, her face

hands on her hair and smoothed it, praying that she didn’t start screaming

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in my arms and woke her

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

my arms and

promise you’ll never leave

I said solemnly.”What did you dream of,

were gone

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