A struggling single mother missed a job interview because she helped a stranger.
The next day, a CEO came looking for her.
—Mom, it’s already 9:30.
Camila’s hands trembled as she pressed the fabric of her uniform against the woman’s bloodied forehead. The cold sidewalk in downtown Bogotá hurt her knees, but the pain was insignificant compared to the weight pressing on her chest.
The interview.
San Rafael Hospital.
Their only chance.
—Ma’am, can you hear me?
—I need you to stay with me.
The older woman blinked, disoriented. Her elegant clothes—a wool coat that probably cost more than Camila’s monthly rent—contrasted brutally with the dust of the brick wall against which she had collapsed.
-I don’t remember…
—Okay, calm down. The ambulance is on its way.
Luna clung to her mother’s arm, her seven-year-old eyes too big for her small face.
—Mom, the lady at the hospital said that if you arrived late…
—I know, my love.
Camila closed her eyes for a second.
Three years of night school.
Countless double shifts.
All for that interview at San Rafael Hospital.
The job that would give them stability.
A fixed salary.
Benefits.
The job that meant Luna could go to a better school.
That they wouldn’t have to count every penny to buy food.
That job was slipping through his fingers like water.
—But your interview was at 9:30, Mom. It’s already 9:35.
Tears threatened to fall, but Camila held them back. Not in front of Luna. Never in front of Luna.
“Where am I?” the older woman asked in a fragile, frightened voice. “Where is my son?”
—Everything will be alright, ma’am. The medical staff is on their way.
Camila checked again. The wound wasn’t deep, but the confusion was worrying. A blow to the head. Something else.
Across the street, Sebastián Salazar watched the scene with his heart pounding.
His mother.
On the floor.
With blood on her forehead.
She had received the call from the driver twenty minutes earlier. Her mother had gotten out of the car, confused, and was walking aimlessly. She had searched desperately for her until she finally saw her.
But she was not alone.
A young woman in a blue nurse’s uniform was kneeling beside her, moving with the precision of someone trained for emergencies. A small girl—clearly her daughter—clutched to her, whispering something in her ear.
The nurse didn’t push people away.
She didn’t shout for help.
She didn’t take out her phone to record.
I was just helping out.
Sebastian took a step towards them, but something stopped him.
I wanted to see.
I needed to see what kind of person helped without expecting anything in return.
The ambulance siren pierced the morning air.
—They’re coming, ma’am. Everything will be alright.
-Thank you.
The older woman took Camila’s hand with surprising strength.
—Thank you, daughter.
Something broke inside Camila.
The paramedics arrived quickly and took control. Camila explained everything she had observed: the confusion, the disorientation, the head wound.
“Is he a relative?” one of them asked.
—No. I found her like this.
—Thank you for keeping her.
Luna tugged on her mother’s sleeve as they lifted the woman onto the stretcher.
—Mommy, can we go now?
Camila looked at her watch.
9:52.
It no longer made sense.
San Rafael Hospital did not reschedule interviews.
The human resources coordinator had been clear. There were a hundred candidates for that position. If you couldn’t make it to an interview on time, how could they trust you to be punctual for your shifts?
—Yes, my love. Let’s go home.
Luna frowned.
—No, let’s go to the hospital.
—No, but you worked so hard for that interview.
—I did the right thing, Luna. Sometimes that’s what matters most.
The words sounded empty even to her.
They walked towards the TransMilenio station, Luna’s small, warm hand in his.
Camila didn’t look back.
She didn’t see the man in the expensive suit who was watching them with an intensity that would have made her heart beat even faster.
Sebastian waited until the ambulance left, with his mother stable inside, and returned to the exact spot where the woman in blue had been kneeling.
There was nothing.
No identification.
No clues.
Only the memory of his tired but determined face.
Of his firm and gentle hands.
Of the way he spoke to his mother, with true respect, not with the condescension so many used with the elderly.
Sebastian took out his phone.
—I need you to check the security cameras in this area. Look for a nurse in a blue uniform, with brown hair, between 25 and 30 years old, with a small child. I want to know who she is.
He followed the ambulance to the hospital, but his mind was already elsewhere.
I would find her.
His mother would like to thank him.
And he…
He needed to meet someone capable of sacrificing so much for a stranger.
