On my own, I'd have done none of that. As my behavior since her passing showed, I guess.I thought about this and other things as we rode; I'd read the book so many times before that my attention could wander freely and come back easily to where I'd left off.When at last I looked up again, I was surprised. The train was emptier now, new faces. But that woman was still there, still sitting across from me. Still looking at me.I may have blushed a little. But that's all I did.I returned to my book, but every so often I'd keep peeking above it. Still there. The train ran to the end of the line and back twice. It was empty now except for her and me. Likely to remain that way, I knew, as it pulled its way through the wee hours. What was her story?The only clue I could find in my furtive glances was a small white circle on the ring finger of her left hand, a circle about the size of the gold and diamond ring she now wore on her right hand, nervously twisting it every so often. A broken. Violet wobbled at first, feeling extremely lightheaded from the lack of nutrition, but her father steadied her effortlessly and guided her towards the sink where he gave her a warm soapy wash – she had pissed herself again despite having the bucket right next to her, but he didn't know whether she had noticed it or not. Violet remained silent and stunned, as he thought she would. “Daddy saw you have an accident,” he said softly. Violet nodded, staring down at the floor as he wiped the back of her legs with a sponge. “Did you forget about your bucket? That's okay, puppy – these things happen. Nothing I haven't seen before, remember?” Violet felt dazed as her father led her out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He was being nice again. She went through the motions, putting one leg in front of the other until they turned a corner and she found herself in his room again. He sat on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. The difference between them was stark; he was fully clothed and.
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