Sophia
The pediatric wing broke ground on a bright Saturday morning, three weeks after that conversation with my mother over coffee, and the hospital had turned it into a genuine event, press tent and folding chairs and a small stage set up beside the construction fencing, donors and board members and hospital staff all gathered to watch the ceremonial first shovel go into the ground.
I stood near the front with my design boards propped on an easel beside me, more nervous than I'd expected to be, watching the crowd fill in. My mother and Daniel arrived early, claiming seats near the front, my mother waving at me with a proud, unguarded smile that still, weeks later, made my chest ache with relief every time I saw it aimed my way.
"You look terrified," Mia said, appearing at my elbow wit
