As Officer Megan Holt settled Emma into the back of her patrol car with a warm blanket, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was profoundly amiss. The rain began to fall heavily, a curtain of water blurring the edges of the mundane suburban street. It was as if the heavens were crying for the little girl who had endured too much for her tender years.
Megan radioed for an ambulance, ensuring that Emma would receive immediate medical attention for her dehydration and malnutrition. As she did, she noticed the child’s small hands fidgeting with the hem of her oversized T-shirt. Emma’s fingers seemed to be tracing something hidden away in the fabric, digging into the pocket of the sweatshirt wrapped around her frail frame.
“Emma, sweetheart,” Megan said gently, trying to catch the girl’s attention. “What do you have there?”
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