Jonah’s POV

I scoop Celeste up with as much care as my trembling arms can manage and hook her limp arm over my shoulder. Lyra locks herself to my leg, fingers knotted in the fabric of my pants like it’s the only solid thing left.

“Is Mama going to be okay?” she breathes, so quiet it’s almost nothing.

I could tell her yes. I could paint her a world where her mother is safe, smiling, waiting.

I don’t.

“I don’t know, ...