Her tiny body felt impossibly fragile in my arms. My fingers clutched at her as if sheer force could hold her together, could stop the darkness from swallowing her. Ezekiel knelt beside me, his hands hovering, uncertain, as if he didn’t know how to bridge the gap between fear and action. The sunlight that had been warming the room moments ago seemed stolen, leaving only shadows that pressed in on all sides.

“Marga, stay with me, baby,” I whispered, my voice breaking despite my effort to ...