Bella nearly stumbled as she rushed through the school's gates, her breath ragged from both fear and the hurried cab ride. The receptionist directed her down the hall to the infirmary, and with every step, her chest tightened.
When she finally pushed the door open, her eyes landed on the small figure perched at the edge of a narrow bed.
Timothy.
His tiny legs dangled, his shoes scuffed, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap. A faint bruise colored his temple, and his knee was scraped raw, but he was upright and breathing. That was all Bella needed.
"Oh, sweetheart," she whispered, rushing to his side. She dropped her bag to the floor and wrapped him into her arms, pulling him close, pressing her lips against his hair. "Mommy's here."
He leaned into her hug, his little body stiff for only a second before he melted into her warmth. "I fell, Mommy," he mumbled against her blouse.
