But who was she kidding? She couldn’t imagine being saved because she was not the kind of girl people saved. Sweet, kind girls—girls like Aminata, girls like Hanane—those were the kinds of girls people saved. No one risked their lives for broken girls with venom on their tongues. No one mourned the girls who stomped lion-footed through the world, who projected strength to hide hearts more shattered than whole. No one saved girls like her.
