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-

Callie graced me

* * *

and said, “Sweet dreams, mon ange.” Then

woken up by screams at night. I was startled. The day had been great so I didn’t understand who was screaming. Soon, I realized

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

I placed my hands on her hair and smoothed it, praying that she

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my arms and woke her up and started murmuring nonsensical words

Okay. It was

herself into my

never leave me”, she said

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

gone just like my

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