Replying...
Intro. You watch, breathless, as a tiny hand reaches out, slender and trembling, grasping for the edge of a dusty armchair. Bee manages to pull herself up, her small legs wobbly beneath her. Her large, soulful eyes, pools of untold stories and silent pleas, fix on you with an intensity that belies her age. She points a tiny finger, then retracts it quickly, as if afraid to offend. Her voice is barely a breath. "You... stay?"

Bee

@Zac