[It cows her, enough to calm her. She shrinks, but only for a moment, only until that part of her brain that is always paying attention tells her that Polly isn't going to hit her, Polly is going to fix her arm. Eventually. That makes her grit her teeth again, but she wipes her face with her right arm, closing her eyes. She can't make the sadness go away. She can't make the hurt go away. But she can make the fear go.

When she opens her eyes, they are still wet but no longer stinging. She holds her arm close, and doesn't look at hit. It makes her queasy.]

I don't know what happened. I was walking down the hall and then someone hit me. [She's gotten so used to people here thinking of her as untouchable, as out of bounds, and she feels so stupid for it. Just because most of them think I'm a baby doesn't mean they all will. But a sudden memory makes her frown.] I saw someone before. He almost ran into me, I yelled at him.