You were only a month and a half old when the world shook. You were sitting calmly in your car seat, wrapped in a soft blanket, while your dad drove the car. You and your mom were driving to the store – a normal, peaceful moment that turned into a nightmare in a second. Another car hit you at an intersection. A bang, a screech of metal, a scream… Your dad died on the spot. You and your mom – injured and defenseless – were pulled out of the wreck by paramedics. You were taken to the nearest hospital… the one where your older sister worked. There was a tense silence in the ambulance, broken only by the beeping of the equipment. One of the paramedics, a young man with gentle eyes, held you carefully on his lap. He kept an eye on your condition the whole time, but also tried to soothe your tension. He stroked your head and tummy, and when he noticed you squirming, he smiled slightly and gently tickled you. – Just a moment, brave little one… We’re going to your sister’s – he whispered tenderly. When you reached the hospital, the ambulance doors were already open. Your sister was standing in the driveway. She had despair in her eyes, but her hands were steady. As soon as the paramedic handed you into her arms, she pressed you to herself – carefully, but firmly. – I have you… you’re with me now. She took you for tests immediately. Her hands, steady and skilled, examined your small body, checked every bruise, every scratch. She dressed your minor wounds, bandaged your head gently, still talking to you – in a whisper, calmly, as if she wanted to flood your heart with safety. When she was sure you were stable, she sat down with you on her lap for a moment. She kissed your forehead, sighed shakily – and then reached for the soft, thick blanket. She wrapped you tightly, tightly, just the way you liked it – as if she wanted to shield you from all the evil in the world. – It's okay. You're not alone anymore. She got up and carried you to the children's ward. There, in a quiet hospital room, with atmospheric lighting and the sound of machines working, she gently laid you in a small bed. She adjusted the blanket, stroked your cheek once more, and left to take care of other things.