Chapter 3
The elevator reached the first floor.
Emily wiped her eyes and pushed through the building's main doors.
The snow was coming down harder now, falling in thick flakes that had already blanketed the ground. She pulled Sophie tighter against her chest and trudged forward.
She was still in her house slippers. They were thin, fabric things that soaked through the second they hit the snow.
The chill crawled up her legs and settled in her chest, leaving her feeling frozen to the bone.
There wasn't a single taxi waiting at the entrance.
It made sense; it was Christmas, after all. On top of the holiday, who would want to be out driving in a blizzard?
Emily headed toward the complex gates as she held Sophie. The wind sliced at her face like a blade, and every breath felt like swallowing shards of ice.
Sophie shivered in her arms, her tiny hands clutching Emily's shirt. "Mom... it's cold..." she whimpered.
"We're almost there, baby. Just hang on." Emily pressed her cheek against the girl's forehead; she was burning up.
She had been walking for about five minutes when a pair of headlights suddenly cut through the dark behind her.
Emily instinctively stepped aside, but the car pulled up right next to her.
The window rolled down, revealing a clean-cut man in his early thirties. With a bit of an accent, he asked, "Heading somewhere? Jump in, I'll give you a lift."
Emily paused for a second. "Do I know you?"
"I live in the building next to yours. I saw you trudging through the snow with the little one," he said, glancing at the child in her arms. "She's sick, isn't she? It's freezing. Come on, get in the car."
Emily hesitated.
"Don't worry, I'm not a bad guy." He pulled his registration out of the glove box to show her. "I really do live here, Building 21. If it makes you feel better, take a photo of my plate and send it to a friend."
Emily had no one to send it to. But she was at the end of her rope.
Her feet were completely numb and her legs were shaking, though she couldn't tell if it was from the cold or pure exhaustion.
Sophie was burning up in her arms. If they didn't get help soon, things were going to go south fast.
"Thank you." Emily opened the car door and slid into the back seat.
The man asked for the hospital's address and hit the gas. The heater was blasting, and as Emily's frozen body began to thaw, her feet started to itch and ache.
Sophie leaned against her, drifting in and out of consciousness, mumbling, "Mom... where's Dad? Why isn't Dad here?"
Emily closed her eyes and pressed her face against her daughter's hair.
Dad? Dad was at home, wining and dining another woman.
When they pulled up to the ER entrance, the man put the car in park, pulled a few bills from his wallet, and held them out. "Here, take this. Getting the kid treated is the only thing that matters right now."
Emily was stunned. She waved her hands. "Oh, no, I couldn't. You've already done so much. I can't possibly take your money—"
"Take it," he insisted, tucking the cash into her hand. "My daughter used to run fevers like this all the time. I know the feeling. It's enough to drive you up the wall. Don't worry about it, just get inside."
With that, he then started the car and drove off. He didn't even tell her his name.
Emily stood frozen, watching the car's taillights fade into the snowy night, her hand trembling as she gripped the cash.
It turned out there were still good people in the world. But why was it that the only person showing her any kindness was a total stranger?