The knife clattered to the floor as Eva slumped sideways, her body heavy, unresponsive.

The baby’s scream rose higher, sharper, desperate.

The door exploded inward.

Alessandro burst through the splintered frame, gun already raised, eyes blazing. Smoke stung his nostrils—burning fabric. The acrid reek of fire. His pulse roared in his ears as his gaze took in the chaos: the overturned crib, the scattered blankets, Eva’s limp form on the ground.

And the empty cradle of Sophia’s cries ...