It was the middle of a stormy night. The sound of thunder and rain falling overshadowed any possible sounds one could make out in the packhouse. Camila’s room was far away, but still, due to her enhanced senses, Miranda could still hear the cries. These cries had woken her up, and made her leave the arms of her lover in search of the little girl.
“Camila?” She called her name upon stepping into her room, but Camila was nowhere to be seen on her bed. Instead, the cries came from inside the closet at the far end.
“Camila?” Miranda called again, opening the closet door to see little Camila sobbing in her nightgown on the closet ground.
She crouched down until she was the same level with her, “what’s wrong, Camila? Why are you crying?”
Camila didn’t respond; only placed her head on her
