Seeing Evelyn Ford, the children's faces were filled with wariness and fear. Evelyn squatted down and looked intently at one of the girls. Clay Gable had said his daughter was twelve, but due to malnutrition, she was small and looked to be only eight or nine years old. Evelyn took the sketch from her pocket and compared it to the grimy little face before her.
The eyes were a perfect match. The girl's face was too dirty to make out her real features, but Evelyn already knew the answer.
"I'm Dr. Ford from the convoy. I'm not here to take your biscuits, so don't be afraid." Evelyn helped them to their feet and handed the sketch to the girl.
"Are you Dotty?"
Hearing this, the girl snatched the sketch paper. She was frantic, but her face was covered in injuries, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. It looked like a tooth had been knocked out during the earlier beating.
