I was riding home after a night shift, rain hitting sideways, the highway empty. Around three in the morning, in the beam of my headlight, I caught a small figure on the shoulder. Barefoot. Shivering. A little girl in a thin Disney nightgown, soaked to the bone, hugging a stuffed bear like it was the only thing keeping her alive. She stepped toward the road with this tiny, broken voice: “Please… take me to heaven.” I braked hard. Her lips were blue. Her hands trembled when she reached for my jacket. She said her name was Lily. She said her...
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