Elizabeth took a seat on the ground between Mother and a convulsing woman whose name she did not remember. Although she'd seen it countless times before, Elizabeth could never acclimate to these surroundings. Women and girls, neighbors and friends, all speaking in tongues. Their bodies gyrated as the words sprang forth from their bulging chests. Elizabeth could never make eye contact.
In an attempt to distract herself, Elizabeth peered around the room looking for anything to hold her gaze until the chaos subsided. She looked to the door just as an unfamiliar mother had made her way into the foyer, dragging alongside her a girl Elizabeth's age.
The girl's dark eyes and even darker skin struck Elizabeth as radiantly and exotically beautiful, so different from her own. Elizabeth waited in quiet suspense for the stranger to fill out a name tag, as was protocol for everyone at the meetings.
Elizabeth watched the dark little girl move toward her seat as her name tag, in bright orange marker, read: Chloe.
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