I was fully aware of how disgusting that story would appear.
I was unconcerned. He made this sound over the radio static from my own cruiser when the hospital came into view, but I was unable to hear any words.
Just a burst of relief. I turned into the ER lane.
Before the car had even settled, he threw open his door, stopped crookedly across two spots, and fled.
“Sir!” I said as I emerged.
Wild-eyed, he turned. “Go inside.”
He took off running.
At that point, I ought to have fled.
passed the stop. authored the report.
returned to patrol. Rather, I idled my motor and stood in the parking lot, gazing at those sliding doors.
After a short while, a nurse entered the room and scanned the area before noticing me.
“Officer?”
I approached. “Yes.”
“Are you the one who brought him?”
“Yes, I am.”
She exhaled nervously. I felt sick to my stomach because of something in her tone.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Her voice trailed off.
“During labor, his daughter experienced serious bleeding. Until he arrived, she refused to approve an emergency operation.
I gazed at her.
“Refusing?”
She was afraid. “I need my dad,” she said repeatedly. Before they took her in, he arrived.
He guided her through it.
I remained silent.
After examining my face for a moment, the nurse remarked, “Come on.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Anyway, come along.”
I followed her through the doors and along a bright hallway that smelled of coffee, disinfectant, and the stale air of people who had been waiting for too long. She paused before a recovery room and grinned at the opening in the door. She remarked, “He made it before she gave up asking.”
The man was inside, standing close to the bed, covering his mouth with one hand.
He was trembling in his shoulders. His daughter appeared worn out, colorless, wrung out, yet still alive.
A baby wrapped in a yellow blanket was in her arms. “Dad,” she muttered.
He staggered two steps in her direction.
“I am present.”
“I promised to do so.”
Then she noticed me standing in the doorway. Her dad pivoted and gestured. “That’s him.
The officer that brought me here is the one.
Her eyes immediately flooded.
“Thank you,” she replied, glancing at me.
“I don’t need your gratitude.”
“Yes,” she replied. “Yes, I do.”
The father chuckled through his emotions as he gazed at the infant.
“I nearly missed her.”
“But you didn’t,” Emily remarked.
I moved in closer. With a small grunt, the infant extended one hand from under the cover.
Everyone in the room, including me, burst out laughing.
“What’s her name?” I inquired.
Emily turned to face her father. “I was waiting for you.”
His face crumpled once more. “For me?”
She gave a nod.
“You consistently show up.”
He stared down at the infant after wiping his tears.
“Hope.”
Emily grinned. “Hope,” she said again.
“Yes. That’s all.
“I’ll put it down,” the nurse next to me whispered quietly.
