Another adult making promises after life may have already taught her that promises disappear.
I worked as an ER nurse in the trauma unit at University of Colorado Hospital. I had spent years learning how to recognize pain before patients could even explain it. I understood the frantic terror of accident victims, the empty silence of abuse survivors, the way fear settles permanently inside the body. I thought I knew how to read people.
I thought I couldn’t be fooled.
I knelt in front of Harper and softened my voice.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
She shook her head immediately. Not like a child denying sadness, but like someone terrified of what would happen if she admitted the truth. Her eyes darted toward the hallway, searching for something I had not yet learned to notice.
