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

and said, “You’re one funny

graced me

* * *

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

been great so I didn’t understand who

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 to

smoothed it, praying that she didn’t start screaming again. I was

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cradled Callie in my arms and woke her up and started

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

into my arms

you’ll never leave me”,

said solemnly.”What did

you were gone just like

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