Her eyes stay trained on mine. An unreadable expression would be easier to accept. Instead, her face falls with sadness and despair. I don’t know her, but what I see in the depths of her eyes is an obvious sign of a life of loneliness and neglect.
She’s definitely the girl in the picture, though. I’m certain. Her dark eyes can’t be mistaken for any other child’s. The almond shapes of them are as defined now …