The little girl wore nothing but a tattered vest and knee-length shorts. Even on a summer morning, she looked underdressed. Klar pulled her up from the ground, and she anxiously bit her lower lip.
"Whose child are you?" Klar asked. "Why are you out here alone so early in the morning?"
The girl did not answer. She merely twisted her arm in silence, trying to wrench herself free from Klar's grip.
"Amel!" A young man's voice called from the fields. Klar turned and saw a pale-skinned man running toward her.
He slowed when he was six or seven steps away, his face breaking into a smile. "Sorry, did she cause you any trouble?"
Klar looked at the man. Like many of the laborers here, he wore a somewhat faded cotton short-sleeved shirt, but his face and neck were exceptionally soft and delicate... He did not look anything like a worker who labored in the fields.
Someone like him appearing on a farm at a time like this... was suspicious in itself.
"Have you apologized to the lady?" the man said, reaching for the little girl's hand.
Klar pulled the girl a step back behind her, her voice edged with wariness and disgust. "Who are you? Does the child even know you? Why are you grabbing at her?"
"Ma'am, I'm not a bad person." The man smiled, doing his best to appear friendly as he raised both hands slightly. "This child is called Amel. She's my niece's friend... Really, I'm not lying. Ask her if you don't believe me."
Klar lowered her head and looked at the little girl. "Is that true?"
"Her mother is called Santa, and she works over at the palace grounds," the man added. "You're not from our farm, are you?"
The little girl still said nothing,