Riley’s POV
Hannah's room is quiet when I enter. She is sitting on the bed, hugging her legs in a position very similar to the one I adopt when I feel overwhelmed. Evidently, it's something she's learned from me.
“Hello, little one. How are you feeling?” I ask as I walk over to her bed and sit down next to her.
Hannah keeps her eyes fixed on the closed windows. She seems lost, absorbed in her own world.
Worry is evident on her face. Her blonde hair is loose and slightly tangled. When she doesn't respond to me, I sit behind her back and begin to slowly comb her hair, trying to calm her down, like when we were little.
“Come on. You know you can talk to me,” I ask calmly. “What's wrong?”
She turns to meet my gaze. Her eyes are full of tears that she tries to hold back.
“Hannah, what's wrong?” I ask a little more alarmed, bringing a hand to her face.
A thick tear rolls down her cheek. Her lower lip trembles slightly.
“I did something wrong, Riley,” she confesses.