"Hello," the little girl smiles.
"Hello. Where are your parents?" the woman asks.
The little girl pauses, cherubic and lovely. "They're dead."
The woman has no reply. She merely looks down at the child.
There is silence. It is heavy and unbroken, until one of them speaks.
"What's your name?"
The little girl twirls a finger around a lock of hair. "Alice. Alice Edgley."
Oh no.
Sweet, psychopathic little girls.
