|It was well after midnight when Brian spotted the little Honda in the ditch. A couple more inches of snow and it would have been impossible to see. Sighing, he hopped out and approached the vehicle. He’d already turned in reports of several stuck, abandoned vehicles to Corky Jones, the tow truck driver, tonight. Corky wasn’t going to be happy to hear of another.
Brian tried to peer into the car, but the windows were fogged up. The headlights of the snowplow just scattered light on the intricately patterned frost, but didn’t penetrate inside. He pulled a small notebook and pencil out of his pocket, planning to write down the make, model and license number to pass on to Corky.
Then, suddenly, he thought he glimpsed something inside…a small head pressed against the back seat window. He dropped the notebook and pencil and jerked open the door. A little girl, about four years old, tumbled out into his arms. She was bundled up in a sweater and an old, patched jacket, and she appeared to be asleep. Or was she unconscious?
“Honey?” Brian patted her cheek. “Are you okay? Can you wake up and answer me?”
Her eyelids fluttered open. “Papa?”