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Your prescription is fine… but payment? Maybe…
there’s some medical insurance?”
She just held her son tighter as tears fell silently down her face.
The toddler wrapped his fingers into her sweater and buried his face in her shoulder.
“I get paid on Friday,” she said. “But he needs it tonight. Please. I don’t know what else to do.
Please…”
Someone in line behind me sighed. Another muttered something under their breath — something cruel and casual, like this mother and child was just another delay in their evening.
That was all it took.
I stepped forward.
“It’s okay,” I said firmly. “I’ll pay for it.”
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