She didn't smile.
She didn't move at all.
All the light in her eyes had dimmed, and there was nothing but a hollow shell of the girl Maria once knew and loved. The smile Maria had on her face washed away the closer they got, and the nurse stopped the wheelchair right in front of Donna. Jane's child lay in her arms like the little bundle of joy he was. The little hairs on his head were dark as night, unlike Antonio's, which were chocolate brown. Maria believed they were Jane's.
Now that Maria thinks about it, she has never seen Jane with her natural hair color. It was always the same dark purple as it is now.
Jane's eyes were focused on nothing in particular. The little boy in her arms was so small, he wiggled around in his mother's arms as little sounds escaped his small mouth. He was covered in a baby blue shawl, and his cap was white as snow.
