Melody

Minutes stretched into hours, yet Zoraya remained asleep. I stayed by her side, unwilling to leave her even for a moment. Her breathing was steady, her face peaceful, but I knew the storm of emotions that would rage within her when she awoke.

I gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, my heart swelling with both love and sorrow. This child—my child—had suffered far too much. Even in sleep, her delicate features held the remnants of past pain, the shadows of a life filled ...