Fiona's POV.
The little girl was there again, dressed in a dirty dress and lying on the dusty floor of the basement sobbing. The girl was sad, so disastrously so that I felt it in my chest, the odd feeling of having a hole in your chest where someone else belongs, a hole only a person could fill. I can feel the feeling of emptiness that no child is to feel as easily as it was my own and it crushes me.
I reach forward trying to go to the girl, to hug her and maybe offer some comfort in the midst of her obvious grief but as usual my hands float right through her and judging by how she makes no breaks in crying, it's clear that she doesn't sense my presence this time. So I step back and watch her cry, I watch her sob and try to control the crumbling in my heart as I do, with each sob she se
