Red light flooded the hallway.
And at the far end stood Arnold.
He was holding a little girl’s hand.
Emily.
She was alive.
She looked frightened.
But she wasn’t alone.
Behind her stood a woman.
A woman I recognized.
I had seen her face hundreds of times.
She was one of the senior administrators at the hospital.
The woman who had smiled at me every Christmas.
The woman who had attended our anniversary dinner.
The woman who had congratulated Ben when he became chief surgeon.
I stared at her.
“Mrs. Carter?”
She smiled.
But there was no warmth in it.
Ben stepped in front of me.
“How did you find her?”
She looked at Emily.
“Children talk.”
Arnold shook his head.
“She found us.”
Mrs. Carter’s smile disappeared.
