“Hey,” I said carefully. “I’m really sorry, but do you need help?”
She didn’t move. For a long second I thought she hadn’t heard me.
Then she turned, slowly, and the look in her eyes hit me like cold water. She wasn’t grieving. She was terrified.
“You’re talking to me,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” I said. “Is that okay?”
“Nobody talks to me.”
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t sooner.”
Her hands tightened in her lap. The white fabric of her dress crumpled under her fingers like she was holding on to keep from drifting away.
“My name is Elena,” she said.
“Daniel.”
