The paramedic immediately set to work without a word. He crouched near the heater, tightened loose screws, checked the wiring, whispered to the machine as though coaxing it back to life was a delicate thing. And in that quiet, I realized no one had seen me like this before—tired, scared, overwhelmed—but not broken beyond help.
Caroline noticed my notebook lying on the counter. “You draw?” she asked softly.
“Sometimes,” I said.
“What do you draw?”
“Houses,” I said. “Houses with warm windows.”
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