I unbuckled Emma from her car seat and lifted her against my chest.

She had nothing on her feet but socks.

My mother had given me a coat on the porch, but in the hurry to get out of the house, nobody had thought to grab shoes.

Emma held her left leg stiff against my side.

The automatic doors slid apart.

The squeak of my rubber soles on the hospital linoleum rang out across the empty triage lobby.

A woman in green scrubs stood up behind a curved desk.