It was supposed to be my last ride of the night. One more pickup, one more drop-off, and I could finally go home. The app pinged with a hospital location, which usually meant either a late shift worker or someone being discharged. Nothing unusual. When I pulled up, I saw her standing near the entrance, small and still, like she wasn’t entirely sure she was supposed to be there. She wasn’t holding much—just a thin folder and a bag that looked almost empty. No balloons. No flowers. No one beside her.
I rolled down the window. “Rideshare for Emily?”
