They all stared at her.

Every last one of them. Frightened orphans with wide eyes, and tiny bodies.

And behind them, row upon row of more eyes, more tiny bodies, more scared faces.

The dead ones, the ones who had never gotten loving parents. The ones with dirty faces, and scars from drunken beatings. The ones who never knew the comfort of a hug, or what trusting really meant.

The ones that followed her.

Then, one child, the smallest who could talk, said “Emiwy? You seein’ ‘em ‘gain?”

He was the only one who talked to her, the only one who trusted her.

He tottered over to her, and grabbed her hand, sucking innocently on his thumb in that angelical child way.

“Yes, Caleb. I see them again…” She ruffled his hair, but didn’t look down. They were looking at her, still.

“Can’t you make ‘em go aways?” He looked at her, still stucking his thumb.

The other orphans stared at her, waiting for her mannequin-like body to move, to respond.

Finally, she looked at him, and said,”I can’t, Caleb. I just can’t.”