Fetching his briefcase
As Karen dialed 911, my dad asked me to fetch his briefcase from his car. ‘We need the documents,’ he said quietly.
I nodded and jogged over to the car, my heart pounding. I rummaged through the back seat and found the old, worn briefcase, a symbol of dad’s meticulous nature.
As I brought it back, I noticed Karen gesturing wildly while she spoke to the dispatcher. She had no idea what was coming next.