Becca was on her feet in a heartbeat, the blanket she'd had tucked over her knees coming with her as she went to the door. She laid what she hoped was a reassuring hand on Clyde's shoulder as she stepped around him, kneeling down at Teddy's level as Clyde carried the boy's mother inside.
"You must be Teddy," she said, slipping into flight attendant, people-person mode. She'd looked after unaccompanied minors on a number of flights; never ones quite so young, but it couldn't be that much different. "It's all right," she said, "You're safe now."
She wrapped the blanket around him as she picked him up and brought him inside--along with the note that had fallen to the floor--and pushed the door shut behind her with a little nudge of focused will. Tucking Teddy into the cushy arm-chair beside the couch, she moved to grab more blankets from the linen closet, along with a first aid kit and some other things.
"I can check her for metaphysical damage," she told Clyde, keeping her voice low, "But she still might need a hospital. We don't know how badly she's hurt."