She woke up in a hospital bed. Cassandra sat close, rubbing her hand. A pastor stood nearby, praying softly. Kali’s eyes fluttered open, confused and silent, tears gathering but no words forming.


“It’s okay,” Cassandra murmured. “I’m here. Just rest.”


The doctor entered, looking over Kali’s chart.

“So,” he said carefully, “she does have traces of several drugs in her system, and some bruising around her ribs. Good thing you brought her in when you did.”


He turned to Kali. “Do you have any small baggies in your pockets by chance?”


Kali reached into her coat and handed him the drugs. He slipped on gloves, bagged them quickly, and hurried out.


Cassandra looked at her, stunned. “Did your mama give you that to sell?”


Kali swallowed hard. “Mama had to pay bills… Teachers would buy it. I’d give her the money. It’s been going on for two years.”


Cassandra felt her stomach drop. “Were you… taking any of it?”


Kali nodded slightly. “Mama gives me a pill in the morning so I have energy, and a pill at night so I can calm down. It’s almost eight… so it’s time for my medicine.”


“Medicine for what?” Cassandra asked. “You’re healthy.”


Kali stared at the ceiling, tears slipping down her face.


“Sometimes I hurt. The pill makes me forget.”


“Kali,” Cassandra whispered, voice breaking, “you don’t need that. You’re a little girl. You will never have to do that again.”


“It’s not a bad thing,” Kali protested weakly. Then, sobbing, “I want to see my Mama.”


“We’re having the funeral in a few days,” Cassandra said. “The funeral home is still working on her.”


“I don’t want to see her with everybody,” Kali said. “I want to see her now.”


Cassandra hesitated. “She… she was burned very badly. We should wait.”


“What happened to her?” Kali demanded.


Cassandra exhaled shakily. “Maybe we should wait to talk about this.”


“No!” Kali said.


“The police think it was drug dealers… something gone wrong. They say she overdosed, was shot, and they burned her and the house.”


Kali let out a raw scream, thrashing, crying uncontrollably. Nurses rushed in, telling Cassandra to step out as they tried to calm her.


In the hallway, two officers approached Cassandra.

“Are you the caregiver for Kali Fenton?”


“Yes,” she said, wiping her face. “I just took guardianship.”


“We need to interview her. You can come with us.”


They walked back into the room, but Kali was already receiving an injection through her IV. Within seconds, she was asleep.


“We told you we were coming,” one officer snapped at the staff.


The doctor replied, “This kid has been through too much. She needed to be sedated.”


Everyone filed out, leaving Cassandra alone beside Kali’s bed. She sat down, took the little girl’s hand, and held on; refusing to let go.