It was in the way that she smiled. The way that her lips curved upward in the semblance of a grin that didn't reach her eyes.
It was in the way that her too dark eyes looked small, sad, desperate as they wandered this way and that, anywhere but your face.
It was in the way that her frame looked smaller than usual, her frail shoulders shrugging in defeat as she sat across from you.
It was in the way that she hadn't said one negative thing that day, not even when Robbie showed up to school that morning wearing the knitted vest his grandmother had made for him.
It was in the way that she wore that long sleeved black shirt, even as the hot California sun sat in the sky.
It was in all these ways that you noticed she was unhappy.
She was slipping into that dark place again, and you didn't know how to help her.