on the door.
Immediately, I heard the thunder of little feet. The lock turned, and the door swung open. A young woman stood there. She couldn’t have been more than 25, wearing a faded nursing scrub top and sweatpants. She looked exhausted—the kind of bone-deep tired that sleep doesn’t fix.
But behind her? Two little kids, a boy and a girl, maybe 4 and continue reading …
