A Seven-Year-Old Boy Rode Three Miles Across Phoenix to Save His Little Sister
“Wait for me in the lobby, Beatrice,” Teresa said.
“This will only take five minutes.”
Beatrice didn’t nod.
She stood on the polished tile and watched as Teresa smoothed her lavender skirt with both hands and followed Officer Henderson into the glass-walled conference room.
Teresa sat up straight in the cushioned vinyl chair, smoothing the lavender linen over her knees with slow, measured strokes.
Officer Henderson didn’t look up from the small black notebook resting against his palm.
“I directed a respected preschool for thirty-two years, Officer,” Teresa said, her voice smooth and crisp.
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