Her palms were red from gripping wheelbarrow handles for miles.
“A little,” she admitted.
The nurse brought a cool cloth and gently wrapped each palm.
The girl tolerated it for less than a minute before asking the same question again.
“Did they find Mommy?”
“They found her.”
“Is she coming?”
“Yes.”
That answer changed her posture.
Not dramatically.
She didn’t cheer or burst into tears.
She simply leaned back against the chair for the first time since arriving.
Minutes later, the sound of an incoming ambulance echoed through the emergency department.
The girl stood so quickly that the unopened sandwich slid from her lap.
A nurse caught it.
“Is that her?”
Nobody wanted to promise something they couldn’t confirm.
Then the paramedic who borrowed the key appeared at the far end of the hall.
