She was six months and twenty-two days old and she had been in hospital for eleven days and she came with a hip abduction brace, a follow-up schedule, a DCFS placement packet, and a diaper bag my sister had packed.

That bag is the thing I cannot write about properly even now.

Perla had put in the specific pacifier, and the muslin with the frayed corner, and a small knitted rabbit, and a note in her handwriting about the feeding times.

A woman under investigation for endangering her daughter packed a bag for her, correctly, with the right rabbit.

Both of those are true and I have had four years and I still cannot put them in the same sentence without stopping.

The first three nights I narrated everything.