Cathryn felt her heart melt listening to the baby's call. She bowed her head and attentively played with the baby, and the haze in her heart temporarily retreated.

"How old is yours?" When the baby was holding her milk bottle, the mother took the time to chat.

"Twenty...twenty-nine weeks." Giving this answer again, Cathryn missed a breath. As if someone had grabbed her neck, her heart slowed.

"Ah, twenty-nine weeks, you are about to be free. But, of course, the last two ...