She knew her older daughter was nearby.
What she didn’t understand was how much time had passed.
When a clinician told her, she stared.
“Three days?”
Her voice was barely audible.
Then her eyes widened.
“The babies.”
He told her they were alive and receiving care.
She tried to sit up.
Staff stopped her almost immediately.
“My daughter?”
“She’s safe too.”
That was when the mother began crying.
Quietly at first.
Not because the news was bad.
Because she had finally heard enough good news to understand what could have happened.
The six-year-old was brought in once staff decided her mother was stable enough for a short visit.
The girl entered slowly.
Despite the urgency she had shown pushing the wheelbarrow, she now seemed unsure what she was allowed to do.
Her mother lifted one hand from the blanket.
That was enough.
