How an Eight-Year-Old Girl Named Emily Reached Out for Help on Maplewood Drive
Sarah Vance sat down across from her and laid her clipboard flat.
“That’s a nice door.”
“It’s my door.” Emily didn’t look up.
“Where does it lead?”
“Nowhere.
It stays shut.”
The gray rabbit lay on its side by her elbow, one ear twisted into a frayed rope.
Emily picked it up, rubbed the ear between two fingers, and laid it back down.