I spent most of that time in a waiting room with a paper cup of untouched coffee and Ruby’s sunflower bracelet wrapped around my fingers.
My phone filled with messages from relatives.
At first, they sounded concerned.
Then the family version began to spread.
Vanessa had been startled.
Ruby had moved unexpectedly.
I had become hysterical.
The injury was terrible, but accidents happened.
The police were overreacting because medical staff had used the phrase child assault before understanding the family dynamic.
My aunt called and said,
“Your sister made a mistake.
Prison won’t give Ruby her eye back.”
I answered, “Neither will silence.”
