The girl fell into me, face first, as she took the last step down from the stage. As she continued to sway, I gently laid a hand on her upper arm. Ignoring the men that were watching, I began to lead the girl out of the building. Once outside, I scooped her up into my arms before making my way to the car. There was no way I was going to make her walk barefoot over the gravel and broken glass in the parking lot. She hardly weighed anything and as her head flopped onto my shoulder, it almost felt like it fitthere.
Like she fit into mylife.
Her skin was hot, a slight sheen of sweat covering her skin from head totoe.
I juggled her in my arms so I could dig my keys out of my pocket once I got to the car. I gently sat the sleeping girl in the passenger seat and covered her with my jacket. I buckled her seatbelt over it so it wouldn’t slip off her—with it being late October, the night air was coolingquickly.
It was a long two-hour drive back home and she slept soundlessly, except for the occasional wheeze or cough. I couldn’t help but keep glancing over ather.
Could it be her? After five years, it didn’t seemlikely.
When we arrived at my house, I carried her to the room she would be able to call her own. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, or what I would need to do, but I knew just the person toask.
