was brilliant — funny, sharp, and an artist with a pencil who once sketched us swinging on the playground.
That drawing stayed in my notebook like a secret treasure.
Then one Monday, her desk was empty, and just like that, she was gone.
Years passed, and I never stopped wondering about her.
Then, after surgery one day, I opened my eyes in a hospital
bed to find a nurse checking my IV. She smiled warmly and said,
“You’ll be okay. You helped me once —
I never forgot.” It took me a moment to realize it was Amy.
She explained how her family had moved suddenly, how she struggled through school and work, and how one nurse had
later helped her chase her dream of becoming one herself.
“Kindness comes back around,”
she said, and in that moment, I knew we’d found each other again for a reason.
