Her name tag said Kara.

A stack of empty file folders sat beside her keyboard.

“We need a doctor this minute,” I said.

Kara pressed a button on her desk phone.

Two nurses came through a pair of swinging double doors and led us to a triage bay.

They looked Emma over without a word, examining the angry red mark on her leg.

Kara wheeled a computer cart into the bay and started typing.

“Can you give me her full name and date of birth?” Kara said.