Genevieve 
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"No." I shake my head, "Shes....shes my daughter...I'll..." I close my eyes and a few more tears slide down my face. "I'll clean her up and put her in new clothes. Its my job." I gulp and stare down at my daughter. How could it be that its been more than 20 minutes since shes looked into my eyes? How can it be that she is really gone? I take hold of her hand, but it is already growing stiff and cold. Its so different from when I would walk her to her classes on Saturdays. Or when I'd walk her to her friend's tent so she could play for the day.

I would never be doing such things again. I must do one last thing for her. I have to take care of my daughter because when it mattered most I was incapable of keeping her safe. Somehow I feel responsible for her death. How could I have looked into Josh's eyes so many times and not see the killer? Not see the hinges that had already come undone in his gaze? I feel so lost without my daughter's life sitting next to me and it is all that man's fault.

I will get to he bottom of this if it is the last thing that I do. 

I sigh and turn towards her backpack. It is filled with all of her clothes. I grab her washcloth out of it and also her ration of water. I look down at the half empty water bottle and realize I have to be careful otherwise she'll still be covered in blood when I bury her. Oh god. When I bury her. How am I going to be able to handle such a thing? More tears slide down my face as I rummage through the backpack for her favorite pink sundress. 

I had bought it one summer from a merchant that had come through the settlement for a week. He was kind and gave it to me for just one day's ration of water. He knew the suffering my people went through and had even asked if my family and I had wanted to tag along. I had told him no. I wish I had. Maybe then she would still be alive. I look at her and begin to take her shirt off. The sight of her chest makes me crumble to the floor and sob.

A gaping hole with blood pooling around it is centered above the left side of her stomach. It is the wound that killed my daughter and it is gruesome. I try to pull myself together so that I can wipe the blood away but it is too much. I sit down and sob into my hands. My eyes are hidden; therefore, I cannot see Lara's anguish anymore. How badly that would must have hurt. She had probably been so scared and I wasn't there to comfort her.