—Bang.
Dorothy falls onto the soft bed. She does not resist, like sand caught in a storm as the scent of detergent envelopes her. As she turns her quilt over, her young mother holds Dorothy in her arms.
'So, where were we in our story?' The book is flipped to a new page. 'Oh right. The doctor went into the forest again...'
'Is that doctor just like dad?' Dorothy hears her own voice.
'Yes, sweetie. Whenever you can't find him, it's because he's out there helping others. Dad's on the road helping the sick, just like when Starling cooked for you when I was sick. Just like when uncle Ander built us that sturdy furniture. It's good to help people, and will always make everything better.'
'So I can help people too?' A child's tender voice comes from her throat.
'Of course... my little...'


Interesting Doctor/daddy issue angle.