“He spoke with the aunties in the different wards, asking questions and taking notes. He saw stuffed animals piled in corners, and a broken bicycle, and a single brightly colored mobile hanging from the ceiling of one room without furnishings, where young girls played together. They all stared at him as he passed, some with hopeful looks, others haunted, others without expression at all. The older they were, the quieter and more subdued they seemed. There was something not at all childlike about them. He had trouble bringing himself to meet their gazes. The babies had made him want to smile. The older children just made him want to hurry, especially the ones kept off in a room by themselves, with cleft palates or misshapen limbs or the vacant stare of profound retardation. He looked through the doorway at them but couldn't bring himself to go inside. He picked up the pace as he completed his tour, growing more uncomfortable with each room.”