7) Robert, orphanage friend.
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The girl washed her hands almost constantly. Didn't speak or played and even after spending the morning sitting while her sister ran around, she would always scrub her hands raw once inside. Like she was sick. In fact, everyone thought so, avoiding the new brat like the plague.
Robert? He was curious.
"Did you do something bad?"
The scrubbing stopped and he knew her attention was his. She might be wondering why this question. But people punished themselves when they did bad things – like his mom and drinking; his dad, not showing up for days at a time. People punished themselves all the time. That and whoever was close enough, he had learned.
"Yes."
Progress.
"Did you want to do it?" He pressed.
The girl hesitated, chewing her lower lip carefully.
"I guess."
"Did you need to?"
"Yes."
"Then if it was needed, you couldn't have said no. If so, then you should accept it's over and done with."
Surprise followed, of his words or him speaking, it could be either.
"… why are you saying this?"
Robert shrugged.
"Not the first lost kid around here." He had been one, after all. "Introduce me to your sis? She looks lonely."
