She simply hadn’t.
When the ambulance finally left the house, the small key the girl had surrendered at the emergency room remained with the paramedic who had opened the door.
He kept it carefully separate from the rest of his equipment.
Back at the hospital, the girl moved her chair as close as nurses allowed to the hallway leading toward the twins.
She accepted water after a nurse promised nobody would forget her mother.
Food was harder.
An unopened sandwich sat beside her as she watched every pair of scrubs passing the doorway.
Whenever someone came through quickly, she straightened.
When they continued past her, she settled back again.
One nurse finally crouched beside her and asked whether her hands hurt.
The girl looked down as if she had forgotten she had hands.
