Highness called as I was leaving work.

"I sent you a Facebook message, but wanted to call, too."

"You called me to tell me you sent me a Facebook message? I get messages in my email inbox about that, too, you know--but how nice of you!"

"Yeah... You remember K and D [old friends]? Well, they were packing to move, and were cleaning, and this window was open..."

He paused too long. Talk faster. Keep going. This isn't good.

"Yeah...?"

"Well, their two-year-old daughter..."

Another pause.

KEEP TALKING.

"Well, she got up into the window...and she...fell out..."

"And...?"

"And she died instantly."

End of life? The pretty little baby I'd held at the outdoor wedding of mutual friends... This beautiful little thing I'd comforted by walking around and around with under the shade of trees... The first child of her parents...the treasure of their hearts... End?

Hours later, after the events of the evening, I googled her. Ten results...the only person with her name... Only one news article mentioned her humanness--running around in brightly-colored springtime boots, smiling and laughing. To everyone else, she's a number, a cause, a past part of someone else's life. A little girl noted amid ads for medical advice, preventing identity theft, and unlimited nationwide calling.