Anne just gave her a nod. She didn't want to talk to Amy anymore. She didn't want to talk to anyone. "My finger's bleeding," she said. And though it was a small prick and she would normally just put her finger in her mouth, it was a welcome excuse now. She put her work down, got up, and made her way to the kitchen. The building was new and plumbing. Anne ran her finger under the tap, hoping Amy and the other girls would leave her alone.