Paloma took a deep breath and gently knocked on the door.
“Hello, love… can I come in?”
The crying subsided.
“I promise I won’t scold you.”
She opened the door slowly.
Inside, a little girl of about eight, with brown hair and eyes swollen from crying, sat on the floor hugging her knees.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Paloma said gently. “What’s your name?”
The girl hesitated.
“Camila.”
“Camila… what a pretty name. I’m Paloma. Why were you crying?”
Camila touched her stomach.
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