“Caleb—” the nurse’s voice burst into the call, urgent, panic‑laced. “She just… she collapsed. We need to get her to the ER, now!”
My world tilted. I could hear Elena’s gasp, a mix of shock and fear.
“Lucy’s on the floor,” the nurse continued, “She’s not breathing— I’m… I’m sorry, I have to go.”
The call dropped, leaving a deafening silence that rang louder than any siren.
Lucy’s tiny body slipped from my grasp, a flash of panic in her eyes, and the nurse sprinted away, her shoes squeaking on the linoleum.
Elena’s voice, barely audible over the ringing in my ears, whispered, “Where is she? What’s happening?”
I stared at the empty hallway, the file still open on the desk, the birthmark imprint burned into my mind, and the sound of distant footsteps growing louder as the nurse rushed Lucy toward the emergency doors.
