What else could I say? Maya’s eyes snapped up at the sound of my voice. It wasn’t the greeting she’d been accustomed to and the down-turn curve on her lips told me as much. Small, withdrawn, she looked miserable on that damn bed. “Hi.” Her voice was low, almost too low for me to hear. She gave me a timid smile before reaching over, and with slow and measured movements grabbed the cup of water on the rolling table/tray thing beside her bed. My fingers twitched, desperate to help her, but instead I closed my fists tight. “How do you feel?” Even a blind person could see the discomfort she was in, but at this point I just wasn’t sure about where I stood with her. What was okay and what was overbearing. “Very sore.” Thickness clouded her words, and the need to comfort her almost bowled me over. Maya paused to take a sip of water; the action caused her to grimace, face pinched tight in distress.
