He shifted the blanket to the side. The person, a girl, looked to be a young teen or preteen. Age was indeterminate. She was malnourished, and her skin was almost translucent. He felt for a pulse, couldn’t find it at her wrist, and reached for the one at her neck. Thready, but there.
“How far out is the ambulance?”
“Bad wreck on the interstate north of the city. It’ll be twenty or thirty minutes. I can send one from Milford.”
He shook his head. “I can get her to Bryan faster.”
“Ten-four.”
The hospital was probably fifteen minutes away if he didn’t break any laws. With high lights and sirens on, he could probably cut a few minutes off. But first, he had to get her in his car.
“Okay, kiddo. I’m Detective Westmont. You don’t know me, but your friend brought me over to help you. I can’t tell if youneed Narcan, but I’m going to help.” He didn’t want to give it to her if she didn’t need it. At the same time, there were no side effects that would harm her if he gave it to her, and it turned out this wasn’t an overdose situation. “You seem a little young to be in drug trouble.” Though he knew that was naïve. He’d seen enough overdoses that didn’t make the count to realize the numbers were higher than the official state number. He administered the dose, then frowned as his flashlight picked up what looked like blood matting in her hair.
“Let’s get you to help.” He stood and then hefted her into his arms, surprised by how light she was. He frowned as he shifted her. Shouldn’t there be more mass to her?
Maybe there was some type of drug or other abuse going on.
He retraced his steps to his nondescript company car, jostling the girl when he reached it. He shifted her weight and felt for the keys in his pocket, unlocking the door with a beep. Then he opened the door, slid her into the back seat, and pulled a seatbelt over her torso. It would have to do as he got her to help as quickly as possible.
There wasn’t much he could see in the shadowed lights as he checked for signs of an overdose, so he debated giving her a second dose of the Narcan but decided to wait. Her breathing was regular, and her heart rate had steadied. She could be dehydrated and malnourished as much as anything. There were none of the signs he’d been trained to look for, like a bluish tinge to the skin and a clammy cast to it. He didn’t like his options other than getting her to the experts as fast as possible. “Let’s get you to someone who can help you.”
As he walked around the car and slid into his seat, he said a quick prayer for her. Then he called into dispatch and let them know he was on his way to Bryan Memorial Hospital. “Can you give them a heads-up I’m en route with an unresponsiveteenager? It also looks possible she has a head trauma, as there’s blood matted in her hair. I’ve administered one dose of Narcan.”
“Yes.”
“Thanks.” Todd kept one eye on the limp young woman as he flipped on his lights but kept the sirens off as he slid along the largely empty roads. He skirted campus and downtown before moving as fast and safely as he could up Sixteenth Street.
The Green Gateauhopped with people when Bridget Ellis finally found parking. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t be late, one more in a string of promises she'd failed to keep for different reasons. Her grand dreams of having life settle into a rhythm after she switched careers had utterly failed. Completely flopped.
She should have stayed with Sydney. At least with her friend, Bridget had filled the role of a highly competent office manager and paralegal. Now she scrambled to learn the complicated process of working in the Nebraska state office of Children and Family Services, and each night her brain hurt from all the new things she’d had to learn. Someday, it would feel easier. Right?
Someone waved, and she moved toward the table where three women waited. She still marveled that these accomplished, professional women had broadened their circle of friendship to make room for her. Dani Jamison had recently returned to the air on the local TV station after the birth of her child. Tricia Jamison, Dani’s sister-in-law, was about to marry the love of her life, and Sydney Sims had been Bridget’s boss and then given her wings to try something new. Maybe she’d take Bridget back when this imploded in her face.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Sydney shook her head, barely masking a grin as Bridget took the vacant seat.
“What? I hadn’t even sat.” Bridget made a show of pulling the napkin out of its fold and settling it across her lap.
Tricia leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand as she studied Bridget. “You aren’t that hard to read. I know you the least of anyone here, and I can tell you had a bad day.”
“I work for the Children and Family Services. I’m learning there aren’t many good ones.” She rolled her neck from side to side, trying to ease some of the tension that had built over the day as she typed up her notes from a week’s worth of home visits.
“There has to have been one good thing.” Dani nudged her arm. “Tell us, in general terms, about a family that made some progress.”
“You’d think. But for each parent that moves even a half step forward, it feels like we learn of three more to take their place.” She tried a quick box breath. She would not pull everyone down, or these invitations would dry up, and she needed them. Desperately. She needed to know that there was laughter and joy even in the middle of difficult moments and situations.
These women supported each other in a way that reminded her there was more to life than the latest family crisis.
She studied Dani, noting the dark circles under her eyes that the makeup almost hid. “How’s the sleep going?”
“It’s getting better. I may have underestimated the toll the transition back to work would have on me. I love being back and using my mind in this way again. But I also really miss Bri.”
“You know you didn’t have to name your little angel after me, though I am deeply honored.” There. She could bring levity to the situation. Bridget smiled even as the others sputtered and choked. “Just kidding.”
“Love you, Bridget, but don’t forget my daughter’s name is Brianna.”
“How could I forget?” She sobered long enough to probe a little deeper. “Are you sure that’s all that’s going on? You seemed to be getting better sleep last time I saw you.” Dani’s husband, Caleb, was a doting dad to their infant. The couple relished their second chance at building a family and parenting together, one they’d given up as young adults.
Tricia slid a packet of Kleenexes from her purse as Dani teared up.
