over newspapers and puzzle books as she searched desperately for a line to the outside world.
Finally, hidden under a box of crackers, Kyara found her prize. Even as she dialed, she moved back to Jan, dragging a blanked from an old recliner with her.
"9-1-1. What's your emergency?" came the voice on the line. It was loud, almost painfully so, set up to help Jan's failing hearing.
"I just found my neighbor half out of her door and really cold. She's old. Um, Jan... Janice Waite."
"Alright, Ma'am, just stay calm. We need you to stay on the line. Where are you?"
"Main Street, East Hopeful. I, um, I don't know which number is hers. It's right across the street from number 15, though. The Main Street Soul Restaurant."
"Good, Ma'am. Thank you. I'm sending an ambulance right away. Are you in a position to check on her? Can you check on her breathing?"
Kyara followed the directions, first checking Jan's breathing, then trying to get her warm. She rushed around the room, pulling anything which looked warm off of the furniture. Then she pulled the cord on the phone tight as she tried the kitchen and the hall as well. The bedroom remained just out of reach.
"I can't get more blankets from here, I have to put the phone down," Kyara told the operator on the other end.
"That's fine," assured the operator as if talking to a small child, "just don't hang up. Leave the phone where you can get back to it as soon as you can."
Kyara gently placed the phone down, then ran for the bedroom. There she grabbed every blanket she could, pulling them behind her into the hall and back to Jan.
When she returned, Officer Marsh was standing over the woman's still body, checking her pulse with his fingers. He looked up at her, his eyes going immediately dismissive.
"If anything's missing, I'll make sure Mrs. Waite knows who was in her bedroom.”
Kyara's fist clenched. Asshole! Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. As if he can't see I'm here to help.
Kyara didn't bother to respond. Instead, she just dragged the blankets over to Jan, hauling them over the woman's prone form.
Is there more color in her cheeks? Kyara couldn't tell.
Without a word, Kyara left Jan in the officer's care, running back into the cold to get firewood from the stack outside. She came back as soon as she could throwing wood into the stove.
Tinder. I'm pretty sure it needs paper or something to get going. I saw that on TV.
Kyara immediately started grabbing the newspapers from around the room, putting them in as well.
A growl interrupted her.
"Move your ass," spat Officer Marsh. "You're wasting your time." He pushed her aside, not bothering to be gentle.
Fuming, Kyara returned to the waiting phone.
It wasn't where she'd left it. It was hung up on its cradle.
"I was supposed to stay on the line," said Kyara.
"Not worth it," snapped Marsh from the stove, a careful little flame now going within. "It'll take them half an hour to get here. I'm taking her in my car."
"Half an hour?" asked Kyara, stunned.
"At least. You may have noticed we don't have a hospital in town," snapped Marsh sarcastically as he knelt over Jan, rubbing her arms through the blankets.
"Fine," said Kyara. "What can I do to help?"
Marsh looked at her doubtfully, but replied.
"Come keep her warm. I'm going to warm up the squad car before we put her in it."
Kyara went to her neighbor, trying to imitate what she'd seen the sheriff do. After a moment he nodded, then stepped out. Kyara studied her friend as she warmed her, looking for signs of improvement.
Before long, Marsh returned, gathering up the tiny bird of a woman into his arms. She looked small and withered against his bulk. Kyara helped open doors to get her friend loaded into the back seat. Marsh got in the moment his passenger was settled, slamming his door shut. He pulled away without a word, leaving Kyara standing in the
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