PHOTO PROMPT © Jilly Funell
Her heart fluttered in her chest. She wiped sweaty palms on her jeans and tugged her cap lower on her head to manage jitters and glare.
She’d worked on this all summer. In secret. His birthday surprise.
She moved closer to the building, automatically scanning the terrain even though she knew it like the back of her hand.
There he was, waiting.
His face lit up and he and turned toward the elevator. “I’ll call it for you.”
“It’s okay, Dad,” she grinned and pushed up from the wheelchair. “Just give me your arm. I can walk up.”