She does not speak words, only screams whenever she needs something.
I introduce myself and ask if I may join her for a bit. She responded with a piercing gaze, not leaving my eyes for a second.
I wondered if I may hold her hand. She did not blink and continued to engage me. I reached out for her right hand, and stroked her, gently. No movement on her side, only heaviness.
I looked up and saw one tear, out of the corner of her right eye. One long, drawn out tear, that inched its way down her cheek, down her neck, all the way down to her chest. I watched the subtle stream pool into the crease of skin, right in between her breasts.
I asked if I may fetch a Kleenex to wipe up her tear. And took her silence for a yes.
One tear is worth a thousand words.