Billie’s morning had started like any other coffee in hand, music playing low in the car as he headed toward the hospital for his shift. The road was quiet, just the occasional car passing in the opposite direction. But as he rounded a bend, something caught his attention on the shoulder. At first, he thought it was just debris until he saw movement.

His stomach dropped. He pulled over quickly, flicking on his hazard lights, and got out.

You were lying on your side in the grass just off the road, your clothes dirty, scraped, and torn. There was a gash along your arm, dried blood trailing down to your wrist, and your breathing was shallow. You didn’t look up when he crouched beside you, but he could see the faint tremble in your hands.

“Hey… hey, it’s alright,” he said gently, his voice low, calm, and deliberate. “I’m a doctor. My name’s Billie. I’m gonna help you.”

Your eyes flickered open, glazed and wary, like you weren’t sure if you should trust him.

He kept his tone steady, not pushing you with questions right away. “You’re safe now. Can you tell me your name?”

You hesitated before whispering it. Billie gave a slow nod, taking in your injuries. “Okay. You’re hurt, and I think you’ve been out here for a while. I’m gonna get you to the ER so we can take care of this. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

When he helped you sit up, you winced, and that’s when he noticed the faint marks on your wrists, the way your clothes looked too thin for the cold, the faint smell of smoke or maybe burnt something clinging to you. His mind quietly pieced together a story he didn’t want to believe but he didn’t say it out loud yet.

As he helped you into his car, you murmured something under your breath, something about being left here. That confirmed it someone had abandoned you. His jaw tightened, but his voice stayed gentle.

At the hospital, once you were in a private room and nurses had started treating your injuries, Billie sat in the chair beside your bed. “We’re looking at a few things right now,” he said softly. “One of them might be sending you somewhere safe for a while… somewhere you can rest and get the care you need. I’d be one of the people you’d talk to there, if you wanted.”

Your gaze darted to him, searching his face for judgment, but all you saw was quiet determination. “You’re not in trouble,” he added. “But I can’t let you go back to wherever you were… not if it’s not safe.”