It was in that moment that she felt a soft weight on her arms. She opened her eyes and saw the child there, wrapped in lamb fleece. She moved her hands to steady her grip on it, and for a long moment, her fingers brushed against Andreas’s. Teresa sensed a kind of wordless communication pass between them, a feeling of compassion and shared hurt that only grew when she cradled the child against her chest and realized just how difficult it must have been for him to let go. She, too, would have wanted the child to be hers; she, too, would have wanted to clutch it to her heart and fall asleep beside it every night.

She barely registered the tears that were trickling down her face as she handed the baby over to its mother.

“Feed him,” she told her.

Gloria obeyed, her face marked with tears and relief. The child suckled greedily at her breast.

Teresa looked at Andreas. She understood that he wasn’t going to hurt them, because he knew, now, that the child was where it was meant to be.

“Let’s go,” she told Gloria.

She made Gloria back away first, and didn’t move at all until she was reasonably sure Gloria had made it out of the gallery safely. Those minutes seemed to last for an eternity, and Andreas’s eyes never once stopped staring into hers.

It was difficult to walk away from him, to interrupt that moment. Teresa retreated and disappeared into the black tunnel.

“Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot,” she muttered as she hurried past the armed officers who were hiding in the shadows, pressed against the rock walls. She was afraid. For the first time in her career, she feared for a killer.

When she emerged into the open air, she saw Gloria and Mathias embracing little Markus. Teresa looked around at all those who had gathered and couldn’t see the children’s father. So Gloria had been strong; she had kept her promise. Teresa had done the same for Mathias; she had retrieved for him a brother’s love, but she had also gifted him a renewed family. The boy looked up and saw her. Teresa would remember for the rest of her life the fond memory of that shared glance.

She turned her face to the sky and savored the gentle, soothing weight of snowflakes on her skin.

All of a sudden, she felt quite empty. Her body went limp and crumpled onto the snow. Her mind remained alert for a few moments more, long enough for her to become aware that she was lying on the ground, surrounded by the cold that had been her constant companion for the past few days, both within her, and outside. Then, there was darkness.

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