I'm watching her, legs encased in white wool tights as they swing over the ash strewn concrete. Everyone around her is smiling; she's just that sweet.
Small white teeth nibble tiny lips and her head bobs to a rhythm that only she can hear. Her fingers play with the plastic doll in her lap, her mouth murmuring little girl words.
Suddenly, her expression changes, closes. I watch as she is yanked upright, harsh words fluttering over tiny ears as she is dragged onto the bus. I can already see the bruises forming.
The bus pulls away and she is gone.