Samantha wished it wasn’t three o’clock in the morning. She wished she had somebody to talk to. Barbara hadn’t been much help, suggesting she keep Julie hidden until she could figure out what had happened. That could take months, or years. No, she had to get help for Julie in some other way.
Her eyes stung, and she was surprised to find tears brimming. She almost felt as if she was giving up her own flesh and blood. But how could this be? How could she become so attached to a child she didn’t know in such a short period of time?
She pushed aside the almost full cup of tea.
“Tomorrow, at work,” she vowed. “That’s where I’ll get help. Maybe one of my colleagues has an idea.”
* * *
At seven o’clock the next morning, Julie entered Sangre de Cristo Hospital with Samantha. She looked everywhere, taking in all the activity of the emergency room.
“What’s wrong with all those people?” she asked Samantha.
“That’s what I’m here to find out,” Samantha said, taking a file from a rack at the nurse’s station.
The triage nurse smiled at Samantha. Her name tag said Maria Rivera.
“And who is this, Dr. Winstead?”
“My name is Julie,” the child answered. “Samantha’s my—”
“I’m taking care of Julie for a while,” Samantha interrupted. “Would you mind if I set her up in the nurses’ lounge?”
“Go right ahead,” Maria said. “Nanette Belfield is in there now, tidying up.”
Nanette was on the maintenance staff. She was a grandmotherly woman, and when she heard that Samantha was taking care of Julie, she put her hands on the child’s cheeks and said in a lilting Southern drawl, “Don’t you fret one minute ‘bout this little darlin’, Dr. Winstead. I’ll see to it that she’s taken care of while you work.”
“I appreciate it, Mrs. Belfield,” Samantha said. She put a hand on Julie’s shoulder. “I’ll be quite busy for the next few hours. There’s milk and juice in the fridge, and you can have a doughnut. Do you have the things we bought at the Quick Shop?”
“Right here,” Julie said, holding up a brown paper bag filled with activities to occupy her morning.
“Good,” Samantha said. She smiled. “I’ll be back later.”
She left Julie in the care of Mrs. Belfield, who fussed over her like a mother hen. Samantha felt a tugging inside, as if something was drawing her back to Julie. But duty called, and she forced Julie out of her mind until she completed her morning rounds. As an emergency-room doctor she knew very few dull moments, so there was little opportunity in the next two hours to even think of Julie. When at last she was able to get a break, she found Nanette pushing a cart of linens down the hall.
“How is Julie?” she asked. “Has she been much trouble?”
“Trouble?” Nanette asked, her white eyebrows rising. “That child is an angel! She jes’ sat herself down with her things to do, and we’ve barely heard a peep from her.”
The triage nurse waved Samantha down.
“Julie drew a picture for me,” Maria said, holding it out. “How old is that child? Isn’t this rather advanced for her?”
“Julie is . . . . nine,” Samantha said, hesitating as she realized she didn’t exactly know Julie’s age.
She took the picture from the nurse. It depicted a yellow house with a green roof, on a seashore. The waves had been drawn and colored so carefully that they actually seemed to be moving. There was a black dog running along the beach, holding a stick. A little girl was chasing him, the wind blowing her hair across her face. In the distance, Julie had drawn a concession stand, complete with an awning surrounded by blue dolphins.
Samantha studied the picture a few moments, feeling a little strange. Something was familiar about it, but she couldn’t decide what. When Maria spoke again, she pushed the feeling aside and handed her the picture.
“It’s pretty amazing,” she said. “But Julie is a remarkable child. She’s a genius.”
“I believe it,” Maria said.
Samantha found Julie busy drawing more pictures—with both hands. Samantha’s surprised gasp announced her presence. Julie turned around, then smiled.
“Hi,” she said cheerily. “Do you want to see the drawings I made?”
“I’d love to,” Samantha said, walking to the table. She shook her head in wonder. “That’s amazing. I’m ambidextrous myself, but I certainly can’t use both hands at exactly the same time.”
Julie thought a moment, then spoke as if she were reading from a dictionary.