Opened it again.
"You worked very hard for eight months," she said.
It came out stiff. Slightly formal. Like someone reading from a script about how humans offered comfort.
The girl looked up at her with red eyes.
"That was difficult to say correctly," Elara said, which she hadn't meant to say out loud.
Something shifted in the girl's expression — confusion, mostly, but something else underneath it.
Elara crouched down, which put her at eye level, which felt like the right physical adjustment even if everything else was going badly. Picked up the scattered documents from the floor. Straightened them. Held them out.
"One error," she said. "Eight months. Those numbers mean something."
The girl took the documents with shaking hands.
"Go wash your face," Elara said. "Drink something. Come back to your desk."
She stood. Turned. Walked away.
Made it around the corner.
Stopped.
Stood there for a moment staring at the wall.
*You spoke to her like she was a performance report.*
