A few crushed rose petals clung to her skirt.

She had been in there, in that noise and that hard light, for I did not yet know how long.

I dropped to my knees in front of her and gently drew her hands away from her face.

“Hannah,” I said.

“Why are you sitting in the dark, baby?

Who told you to stay in this room?” She would not quite look at me.

Her fingers found the satin ribbon at her waist and twisted it, around and around, until her small knuckles went pale.