Mrs. J. found Moira hiding behind the sofa, crying. A corner of her dress wet from wiping tears off her face.
Mrs. J: Did you see something?
Moira: (No).
Mrs. J: Are you sure, dear?
Moira: (Yes).
Mrs. J. decided not to prod further (as she has been). Poor thing, she thought, a child so little should not have to see things like she is able to.
Mrs. J: Come with me. I made you some hot cocoa.
She picked Moira up, turned on the television, and sat on the sofa. Moira hugged her close and faced opposite the television. Mrs. J. hummed gently in Moira’s ears until the girl fell asleep. Some time later, regular programming was interrupted, and Walter Cronkite came on:
