That’s when I noticed her.

She stood near the far edge of the lot, half-hidden between parked cars. A young woman, barely more than a girl, holding a baby wrapped in what looked like a thin bath towel. She wore only a light sweater, the kind meant for autumn, not for a winter afternoon like this.

She was shaking so hard I could see her knees trembling.

I stopped walking.

Something in my chest tightened, the same way it used when my wife used to forget her gloves in the cold.

“Ma’am?” I called out gently. “Are you okay?”

She turned toward me slowly. She tried to smile, but her lips were already turning blue.

“He’s cold,” she whispered, looking down at the baby. “I’m… doing my best.”