The call came on a Friday.
Emma was at the Healing Hearts office, reviewing her notes from the week. She had been volunteering for two months now — two months of listening, of sitting, of holding space for people who had survived the unimaginable. It was hard work. But it was good work.
Her phone buzzed. Rachel's name appeared on the screen.
"Rachel," Emma answered. "Is everything okay?"
"I need to see you."
Emma's heart tightened. "When?"
"Now. I'm at the office."
"I'm here. Come in."
---
Rachel walked through the door a few minutes later.
She looked different — lighter, somehow. Her shoulders were less tense. Her eyes were less tired. She was holding something in her hands — a small piece of paper.
Emma gestured to the chair across from her. "Sit."
Rachel sat. She didn't spea
