The knock came just as Charlotte was locking the clinic door.
She turned. A woman in a county social services windbreaker stood on the sidewalk, holding a folder and a guarded expression.
“Charlotte Hale?"
“Yes," Charlotte said.
“I'm Denise Carter. I'm here about Amelia Briggs."
Charlotte's chest tightened. “Amelia's… gone."
“I know," Denise said quietly. “Before she passed, she listed you as her preferred guardian for her daughter. Daisy."
Charlotte gripped the keys. “Where is she?"
“In the car," Denise said. “She's been in a group home. It's not… a great fit."
Charlotte nodded once. “Bring her in."
---
The back door of the sedan opened slowly. A thin girl climbed out—dark hair in a messy braid, backpack hanging from one strap, eyes sharp but wary.
“Daisy," Charlotte said gent
