Her uniform—handed down from her older cousin—hung loosely on her thin frame. The collar carried a permanent yellow stain, the cuffs were frayed, and the skirt had been stitched and re-stitched so many times the seams looked like tiny scars. But it was the best she had, and she wore it proudly.
She rounded onto Jefferson Avenue, slowing only slightly to avoid an elderly man pushing a paleta cart. That was when she heard it.
At first it was faint, almost drowned out by distant traffic. A muffled, broken whimper. Madison stopped, scanning the strangely empty street. The sound returned—weak, uneven, fading in and out.
She followed it.
The whimper came from a shiny black Mercedes SUV parked in direct sunlight. Its tinted windows reflected the glare so sharply she had to shield her eyes. Madison stepped closer, her reflection warped in the dark glass.
She pressed her forehead against the window, straining to see inside. Shadows. Shapes. And then—
A baby.
A tiny baby, strapped into a car seat, squirming weakly. His face was beet-red, drenched in sweat, lips barely moving.
“Oh my God…” Madison whispered.
She pounded on the glass.
“Hello?! Anyone? A baby’s in here! Hey! Anyone?!”