She couldn’t sleep, so she patrolled. They’d put Marissa and Hania together. She’d spent much of her time looking in on the two girls. Marissa had climbed into bed with the older girl and curled into Hania’s side. She slept. Hania did not. Each time Lena cracked the door to look in, Hania’s wide eyes turned to her in silent regard. Lena didn’t say anything. Her own loss had taught her there wasn’t anything to make it better, especially words. The twins had told her that Hania and Lydie had been there together longer than any of the rest of them, including Marin and Phoebe, who had been shipped in separately from other places. It was no wonder Hania was shell-shocked. Finally, shortly after her fifth restless patrol in the hours before dawn, Lena peeked in, and Hania had fallen asleep. Her thick lashes curled down over the dark hollows under her eyes, emphasizing her poor health. Lena had asked about their condition.
