Chapter 1 - The wheelbarrow
The first thing I heard was metal screaming across tile.
I looked up from the emergency admission desk expecting to see a maintenance cart with a broken wheel.
Instead, the automatic doors opened and an old rusted wheelbarrow came through.
Behind it was a little girl.
She could not have been older than seven.
Barefoot.
Dirty.
Trembling so badly that every step seemed to cost her something.
Her light-brown hair was stuck to her face with sweat. Her green cotton dress was streaked with dirt. Both knees were scraped, and faint bloody marks followed her cracked heels across the polished floor.
But it was her hands that made my stomach tighten.
Both palms were covered in raw blisters.
She had wrapped pieces of cloth around them, but blood had soaked through.
“Please help,” she whispered.
Nobody moved for one terrible second.
Then the wheelbarrow shifted.
Something beneath a faded yellow blanket made the smallest sound.
Nurse Sarah rushed around the desk.
She pulled back the blanket.
Two newborn babies lay side by side.
A boy and a girl.
Their faces were frighteningly pale.
“Dr. Miller!”
The little girl tightened her grip on the wheelbarrow.
“My babies won’t wake up.”
Sarah touched one infant’s cheek.
Her expression changed immediately.
“Cold.”
Dr. Miller appeared from behind the trauma doors and lifted the baby boy.
“Warmers. Oxygen. Neonatal team. Now.”
Another nurse reached for the girl.
She pulled away.
“No!”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.”
“Don’t take my wheelbarrow.”
“Nobody’s taking it.”
Only then did she release the handles.
Sarah crouched in front of her.
“What’s your name?”
“Grace.”
“Grace, where is your mother?”
The child’s eyes filled with tears.
She looked toward the babies being rushed away.
May you like
Then she whispered the sentence none of us would ever forget.
“My mommy has been asleep for three days.”
