My head snapped toward the sound, adrenaline surging as I scanned the yard. That was when I spotted her at the bottom of the slide, crumpled in the grass, crying hard.
“Charlotte,” I called, crossing the yard in long strides, my heart thudding as I tried not to jump to the worst conclusions.
Had she fallen off the playset?Hit her head?
She was clutching the side of her face.
“What happened?” I dropped into a crouch in front of her, scanning for any obvious signs of injury.
But instead of answering me, she just kept on wailing.
“It was an accident,” a small voice said. And that was when I noticed a boy with brown hair beside her. He looked a couple of years older, brown eyes wide, one hand hovering uncertainly near her back.
“An accident?” I asked, wondering what that meant. I shifted my focus to Charlotte, lifting her up so we were eye level. “Hey, bug. Talk to me. What happened? Are you hurt?”
But she couldn’t answer through her hitching breaths as tears streamed fast and furious.
She’d always been a crier, and I knew I wouldn’t get any info out of her until she calmed down.
I pulled her into my arms and held her close, rubbing slow circles between her shoulder blades. She curled into me immediately, her cries muffling against my chest.
“Can you tell me what happened?” I asked the boy who was still standing by our sides, looking miserable.
He nodded quickly. “I went down the slide, and she was running past it. I bumped into her and she fell. I didn’t mean to. I promise.”
“It’s okay,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Accidents happen.” I knew from experience, since I’d been that boy too many times on the playground.
Footsteps approached then, and I looked up to see Lia hurrying toward us with another woman I didn’t recognize.
“Is Charlotte okay?” Lia asked, worry etched across her face.
“I think she just got the wind knocked out of her.” I stood with Charlotte in my arms, looking at the two women. “Sounds like they collided near the slide and she fell down.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the woman beside Lia said. And when the boy stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her leg, I knew this woman must be his mom.
“It’s okay,” I said again, looking at the boy so he’d know I didn’t hold anything against him. “Playground accidents happen.”
“They do,” his mom said, wincing. “But I just hate seeing anyone get hurt. Especially sweet Charlotte.”
This woman knew my daughter? I didn’t know how that could be since I was pretty sure I’d never seen her before.
But before I could ask how she knew my daughter, Charlotte’s crying finally slowed so that she seemed ready to talk. Easing her back just enough to look at her face, I searched her eyes and gently asked, “You gonna be okay, bug?”
She nodded, sniffling, then wiped at her tears with the back of her hand.
“Where does it hurt?” I asked.
She touched her cheek with a small finger. “Bwadenkicked me here.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t think he meant to.” I pressed a kiss onto her hair. “It sounds like you were both in the wrong place at the same time.”
“It still hurts,” she said, her lower lip jutting out in a way that told me she wasn’t ready to let this go yet.
That was my girl. Always wanting justice to be acknowledged.
A useful instinct in my line of work. Less useful on a playground.
“I’m really sorry you got hurt, Charlotte.” The boy’s mom knelt beside us, her voice gentle and earnest. “Would it help if Braden gave you a hug?”