The groundbreaking ceremony was scheduled for nine o'clock.
By seven, people had already begun gathering behind the temporary barriers.
Parents arrived carrying children on their shoulders.
Nurses came wearing their uniforms before reporting for duty.
Medical students held handwritten signs that simply read:
Build Hope.
The empty piece of land behind them had become strangely famous.
For twelve years, government records had listed it as the future site of the National Children's Hospital. Twelve years.
Countless budgets had been approved.
Contracts had been signed.
Funds had been released.
Official reports even claimed the project was almost complete.
Yet the land remained exactly as it had always been. Bare earth. Wild grass.
A rusted perimeter fence. Nothing else.
Today, that would finally change.
