And nothing like the woman who had folded two armed men in under a minute.
“Nurse Pierce,” Brandt said.
His voice cracked.
“I filmed a little girl begging for help. I laughed at her. I have no excuse.”
“How old are you, Doctor?”
“Twenty-nine.”
“You have 40 years of practice ahead. Every patient who walks through that door has a story you cannot see yet. Some of them carry yellow gloves.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“I will.”
She nodded.
That was enough.
Imani Brooks hurried across the lobby, phone to her ear.
“Agent Hale, they found her.”
Everyone turned.
“Harlan Bridge, east side, below the crane. Half in the creek. Conscious. Concussion, broken collarbone, hypothermic. She asked about her kids before they could ask her name.”
Lauren’s knees almost went.
She caught the edge of the desk.
“Ambulance is four minutes out,” Hale said.
Four minutes later, the ambulance doors opened.
