A few weeks later, Avery asked if I would meet her aunt with her. We sat together in a small café. The woman cried when she saw Avery. She thanked me until I didn’t know where to look.
When we left, Avery slipped her hand into mine.
“I choose you,” she said. “Every time.”
This morning, we recreated an old photo—me holding a frightened child in oversized scrubs. Now she’s taller. Stronger. Smiling without fear.
People say I saved her.
But the truth is, thirteen years ago, in a cold emergency room, a three-year-old girl chose me.
And I’ve spent every day since trying to deserve that choice.
Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real-life themes. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim responsibility for interpretations or reliance. All images referenced are for illustrative purposes only.
