“Let’s get you cleaned up before they get here.” Rose said. She rolled Ella off the bedpan before dumping the contents in the toilet.
Ella listened to Rose talk about all the fun she would be having in her new home while she wiped her down with a warm, wet washcloth. It would be a six hour car ride from the hospitals’ children center she was staying at to her new family’s house, but Rose insisted it would be worth every minute.
As Rose was helping her into a shirt, she commented on the picture Ella had been drawing. “You draw pretty well for your age.” Ella shrugged. She knew it was the only thing she did well for her age. She had missed the last two years of school, and the only way she could communicate was through baby sign language. She hadn’t always been like this. She used to talk, but something had changed. Was it from the cancer, or was it something else? Had something happened? She couldn’t quite remember.