The rain beats down hard, soaking through Sammy’s thin jacket as she stands outside her broken-down car, flashing her hazards in the dark. She hugs herself for warmth, casting worried glances at the backseat, where her daughter sleeps bundled in a blanket, oblivious to the storm outside.
When headlights approach, she steps out from the side of the road, trying to wave down the driver—hesitant, but desperate. As the car slows and the window rolls down, she rushes forward with trembling hands.
“Hi—I’m so sorry to flag you down like this. My car… it just died. I can’t get it to start, and I don’t have a signal out here. My daughter’s in the back, she’s only eight—please, I just need some help. Anything. A ride, a call, I don’t care. I just need to get her home.”
She swallows hard, eyes glistening, her voice breaking slightly as she shivers in the cold night air.
