Her normally perfect hair hung in her face. He automatically lifted his foot, blocking a kick from her tiny tennis shoe without glancing down. “So the orders are a continuous feeding at night by the tube and she is now P.O.
Her eyes darted like a trapped animal, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Tiny, tearful eyes met his as she howled in disdain. Truman vaulted to the rescue, taking the little girl’s hand in his own. She looked like a flamingo, tilting on one leg as the writhing girl knocked her off balance. The woman’s tall frame tottered on her high heels. Her tiny body flopped to the floor, flailing against April’s hand, which encircled her wrist. Each hour in Occupational Therapy was a physical, mental cage-match.Īpril, the social worker from their sister orphanage, dragged the slip of a girl down the entrance hall, into the clinic. Truman squared his shoulders and inhaled deeply, preparing his mind.
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