Troy was sitting in the hospital room next to Juicy's bed. He still held the small bundle of his son, even though it had been hours since his birth. He wondered if that was the appropriate word to use when a baby was born, having already died. Birth was supposed to mark the beginning of one's life, but for him it had marked the end.

They had been able to stop Juicy's labor, for now, and she had been moved to a private room, still in a coma, and heavily monitored. Janet had ...