That day, though, began like any other. A steady drizzle had been falling since morning, turning the sidewalks slick and gray. My daughter, who worked as a nurse on the early shift, had asked if I could take care of little Violet for the day.
Violet was only five months old, round-cheeked and curious, with eyes that seemed to drink in the world. I adored her, as any grandmother would. Watching her while my daughter worked long hours was never a chore, it was my greatest joy.
I packed her diaper bag, tucked a soft blanket around her, and set out for a walk in the stroller. I thought the fresh air might soothe her, and truth be told, it did me good too.
