All she knows is that the men in the family went out hunting, and now a trail of blood paints a path from the main entrance to the living hall.
Who’s hurt? How bad is it?
She has no one to ask, because all the adults are busy running around. Even her older siblings are helping. She’s the only one who’s been locked out.
It’s because she’s the youngest. They think she can’t help, but they’re wrong. She can. She just needs a chance.
A wail draws her attention to an even smaller body beside her.
That’s right. She’s not the youngest anymore. There’s the new kid her second uncle adopted last month.
She tries, but she still can’t find anyone. The boy’s cries are ignored.
Their last family emergency was three years ago, when a brutal storm made the roof collapse on them. She’s too young to remember any details, only the warmth of her older sister’s arms.
The kid doesn’t have her older sister. He only has her. Determined, she closes the distance between them and grabs him.
The boy startles, but soon latches on to her as well. They’re a tangle of limbs, two forgotten kids drawing comfort from each other while they wait to be remembered.