Abandoned

44

The setback came quietly at first.

It wasn't dramatic. There was no obvious trigger, no single moment that could be pointed to and explained away. It began as a subtle shift, something Zareya felt more than saw.

Sienna woke that morning already restless.

Her sleep had been lighter than usual, punctuated by small whimpers and half-waking moments where she reached blindly for Zareya's arm, her fingers curling tight as if afraid it might disappear. By morning, her body felt tense, coiled too tightly beneath the blankets.

Zareya noticed it the moment Sienna opened her eyes.

Usually, she woke slowly. Blinked. Looked for her mama. Reached for her elephant.

Today, her eyes flew open, wide and unfocused. Her breathing was shallow. Her hands fluttered against the sheets, restless and uncertain.

"Hey, baby," Zareya murmured, keeping her voice low and even. "Good morning."

Sienna didn't respond. She turned her face away, curling inward, knees pulling up defensively. When Zareya reached to brush her hair back, Sienna flinched, not hard, but enough to make Zareya pause.

Something's off.

Zareya didn't push. She never did when Sienna's body said no.

She adjusted instead, lowered the lights, closed the blinds a little more, moved slowly through their familiar morning routine. The elephant was offered. The pacifier followed. Milk came next.

Sienna accepted them, but mechanically. Her eyes stayed distant, her body rigid in Zareya's arms.

By the time breakfast arrived, Zareya's concern had deepened into a knot low in her chest.

—————

Therapy was scheduled for mid-morning.

Zareya debated canceling it. She hovered by the door with Sienna balanced on her hip, weighing routine against instinct. Routine had been helping lately, but so had listening when Sienna's cues shifted.

"We can try," Zareya whispered to herself. "And we can stop."

The therapy room was quiet when they arrived. Soft mats. Familiar toys. The same therapist who had worked with Sienna for weeks now, moving carefully, predictably.

At first, Sienna stayed close. She stood between Zareya's knees, gripping the fabric of her trousers with one hand while the other clutched her elephant.

The therapist smiled gently. "Hi, Sienna."

No response.

They started slow, rolling a ball back and forth. Sienna didn't engage, but she didn't retreat either. Her eyes tracked the movement, her body taut as a wire pulled too tight.

Then the ball bumped against her foot.

It was a small thing.

Barely a tap.

But something in Sienna snapped.

She shrieked, a sharp, panicked sound that cut through the room. Her body stiffened, then twisted violently as she tried to escape Zareya's hold. Her elephant flew from her grasp, skidding across the mat.

"No, no, no," Zareya murmured instantly, arms tightening just enough to keep Sienna safe without trapping her. "It's okay. I've got you."

Sienna didn't hear her.

She thrashed, legs kicking, arms flailing, her cries escalating into raw, wordless panic. Her hands clawed at her own sleeves, her chest, her hair, anywhere she could reach, as if trying to peel herself out of her own skin.