has theories about everything—the moon follows our car because it enjoys our jokes, puddles are “mirrors for the sky,” and the neighbor’s dog secretly speaks English.
So when she asked a question that hit me like a soft, unexpected blow—gentle voice, wide eyes, no hidden intention—I knew she wasn’t trying to cause trouble. She truly believed what she was saying.
I didn’t react. I couldn’t. One wrong expression would have crushed her. Instead, I kept my voice light and asked gentle questions.
She spoke in scattered pieces only a child
