The next day, a CEO came to pick her up. “Mommy, it’s already 9:30.” Camila’s hands trembled as she pressed the fabric of her uniform against the woman’s bleeding forehead. The cold sidewalk in downtown Bogotá stung her knees, but the pain was insignificant compared to the weight crushing her chest. The interview. San Rafael Hospital, her only chance. “Ma’am, can you hear me?”
“I need you to stay with me.” The older woman blinked, disoriented. Her expensive clothes, a wool coat that probably cost more than Camila’s monthly rent, contrasted starkly with the dust on the brick wall against which she had collapsed. “I don’t remember.” “It’s okay, calm down. The ambulance is coming.” Luna clung to her mother’s arm, her seven-year-old eyes too big in her small face. “Mommy, the lady at the hospital said that if you were late…”
“I know, my love.” Camila closed her eyes for a second. Three years of night school. Countless double shifts. All to get that interview at San Rafael Hospital. The job that would give them stability, a fixed salary, benefits, the job that meant Luna could go to a better school, that they wouldn’t have to count every penny to buy food. That job was slipping through their fingers like water. But your interview is at 9:30, Mom. It’s 9:35.
Tears threatened to spill, but Camila swallowed them back. Not in front of Luna, never in front of Luna. Where am I? The older woman’s voice sounded fragile, frightened. Where is my son? Everything is going to be alright, ma’am. The medical staff is on their way. Camila checked again. The wound wasn’t deep, but the woman’s confusion was worrying. A blow to the head, something more. Across the street, Sebastián Salazar watched the scene, his heart pounding.
His mother, on the ground with blood on her forehead, had received the call from the driver 20 minutes earlier. Her mother had gotten out of the car, confused, walking aimlessly. She had frantically searched these streets until she finally saw her. But she wasn’t alone. A young woman in a blue nurse’s uniform was kneeling beside her, moving with the precision of someone trained for emergencies. A little girl, her daughter obviously, clung to her, whispering something in her ear.
The nurse didn’t push them away, didn’t shout for help, didn’t take out her phone to take pictures; she was just helping. Sebastián took a step toward them, but something stopped him. He wanted to see. He needed to see what kind of person helped without expecting anything in return. The ambulance siren pierced the morning air. “They’re here, ma’am. Everything will be alright. Thank you.” The older woman gripped Camila’s hand with surprising strength. “Thank you, daughter.” Camila felt something inside her break.
The paramedics arrived efficiently and quickly. They took control of the situation while Camila explained what she had seen. The confusion, the disorientation, the head wound. “Is she familiar?” one of the paramedics asked. “I didn’t find her like this. Thank you for staying with her.” Luna tugged at her mother’s sleeve as the paramedics helped the older woman onto the stretcher. “Mommy, can we go now?” Camila looked at her watch. 9:52. There was no point in going. San Rafael Hospital didn’t reschedule interviews.
The human resources coordinator had been clear. There were 100 candidates for that position. If you couldn’t make it to an interview on time, how could they trust you to make your shifts? “Yes, my love. Let’s go home.” The little girl frowned. “No, let’s go to the hospital.” “No, but you worked so hard for that interview.” “I did the right thing, Luna. Sometimes that’s what matters most.” The words sounded hollow even to her. They walked toward the TransMilenio station. Luna’s small, warm hand in hers.
Camila didn’t look back. He didn’t see the man in the suit watching them with an intensity that would have made his heart race. Sebastian waited until the ambulance drove off. His mother was inside, stable. Then he went back to the exact spot where the woman in blue had been kneeling. There was nothing there, no ID lying around, no clues, only the memory of her face, exhausted but determined, her steady, gentle hands, the way she had spoken to his mother, with genuine respect, not the condescension so many used with the elderly.
Sebastian pulled out his phone and called his assistant. “I need you to check the security cameras in this area. Look for a nurse in a blue uniform, brown hair, about 25 to 30 years old, with a young child. I want to know who she is.” He followed the ambulance to the hospital, but his mind was already elsewhere. He would find that woman. His mother would want to thank him. And he needed to meet someone capable of sacrificing so much for a stranger. The apartment on Kennedy had never felt so small.
Camila dropped her bag on the floor and
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