From behind the curtain of her hair, her eyes are slowly welling with tears.
***
With wonder, she traces her finger slowly along the curve of the indecipherable black ink blot. It’s almost unreal, she thinks, I can’t believe this is happening.
“Mine,” she says slowly, trying out the word like a candy in her mouth, a new, tender smile growing along the edge of her lips. “Mine.”
***
She looks across at the two heads bent close together, and unreasonable panic and anger start to swell in her chest. She fights it - oh, how she fights it; knowing there’s absolutely no reason to feel this way - but already she can feel the smile slipping off her face and her jaw stiffens into a mulish line.
Her fist is clenched beneath the tumble of cushions on her lap, and she grits her teeth. Mine, she thinks fiercely, as she tries to drag her peripheral vision away.
She fails. Mine, she thought again, but she couldn’t stop the frisson of imperceptible paranoia that ran down her spine.
***
It’s almost completely silent in the hall, apart from the occasional sniffle, and she cannot decide if it is better to watch or to turn away. Or, rather, which is worse. In the end, she lifts her head at the last minute, and watches the metal doors slide closed. A roaring fills her head and her knees crumple, but now she cannot tear her eyes away even as people rush to her side to lift her up.
Her lips are numb, but she manages to mouth the word “Mine” before her eyes roll up and her world goes blessedly silent and still.
***
The teddy is her constant companion, and so it comes as a complete shock when she is ordered to share. Her rosebud mouth is round in an ‘O’ of utter indignation as her precious teddy is taken from her, and mere seconds elapse before a desolate wail is heard. She beats her little fists angrily on the wall.
“Mine!” she howls, and she will not be denied. “Mine!”
***
From behind the curtain of her hair, the tears began to fall.
