Ethan never planned on ending up at a clinic past midnight, and he definitely wasn’t prepared for what his daughter would say there. Snow had been falling over New York City for hours, covering everything in a cold, quiet layer. The streets were half empty, headlights cutting through the blur as Ethan drove carefully, one hand on the wheel, the other gripping the edge of his seat. In the back, Lily sat curled up, holding her wrist close to her chest.
Still hurts? » Ethan asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. She nodded slightly. No tears, no whining. That was Lily, and honestly, that scared him more. 8 years old and already too used to dealing with pain quietly. Ethan pulled up outside the urgent care clinic, its bright white lights glowing harshly against the soft darkness outside. He stepped out quickly, rushing to her side. Easy, he said, helping her out of the car. She grabbed his hand immediately. Always did.
Inside, the clinic smelled like antiseptic and exhaustion. A nurse at the desk barely looked up. Name? Ethan Carter. My daughter fell. Her wrist. Have a seat. Doctor will call you. That was it. No warmth, no urgency, just another long night. Ethan nodded and guided Lily to a chair in the corner. The waiting room was almost empty. Almost. There was a man asleep against the wall. And then there was her. Ethan didn’t notice her at first, but Lily did.
She sat across the room wrapped in a dark coat, her hands resting in her lap like she didn’t know what else to do with them. Her face looked calm, but something about her felt off. Still, too still. Lily kept staring. Ethan noticed and gently nudged her. « Hey, don’t stare, kid. » But Lily didn’t look away. « Dad, » she whispered. « Yeah, that lady, she looks sad. » Ethan followed her gaze for the first time, and that’s when he saw her. There was nothing obvious about it.
