In the deepening twilight.
Beneath the old locust tree outside the village fence, a few villagers waited, holding torches.
"Why aren't they back yet?"
"Don't tell me they couldn't save the man and got themselves in trouble instead?"
"Shh! Don't say such things!"
"Taylor, you should go home and get some sleep. When you wake up tomorrow, your father will be back." The old village chief hesitated when he saw the little girl beside him fighting to keep her eyes open, her rims red with tears, but still spoke gently.
Nine-year-old Taylor was wrapped in a patched coarse linen cloak, her bare feet stepping on the cold, hard, dung-stained earth, head bowed in silence, just staring at her already crimson toes.
She'd had shoes, but as dusk was falling, a few bullies from the village laughed at her, mocking that she would end up fatherless. Unable to hold back, she got into a scuffle, and her shoes were lost in the mess.
"Will Daddy really come back?"
