I leaned forward and tugged the sleeve of her eighteen-dollar Target sundress down toward her elbow to keep her covered.

As the yellow flowered fabric slid up two inches, I froze.

On the pale skin of her upper arm was a dark oval bruise, exactly the size and shape of an adult thumb and forefinger squeezing hard into soft flesh.

The edges had gone from dark purple to yellow, at least two weeks old, with a fresh red pinch mark right in the middle.

I smoothed the yellow flowered fabric back down over her arm and laid my hand gently over her sleeve.