With that, she turned her back on me and returned to the couch, where she sat down and placed the baby on her lap before reaching for my wineglass and taking a long sip. There would be no rationalizing with her, not just because of the drama of the evening, which Ruth was clearly enjoying, but also because she’d been drinking.

Instead, I marched over and snatched the glass from her. “No drinking while you’re looking after the baby. Or else I’ll definitely be making that call.” I glared at her, daring her to challenge me. She pulled a face but let me take the glass without any resistance.

I went through the plastic bags, pulling out a bottle and a tin of formula. “This looks like it’s for older babies but no shops nearby will be open at this time. It will just have to do until tomorrow.”

“Will you make it up while—”

“No, this is all on you. You want to keep him for the night, you take care of him. And the dog too. I’m going to bed,” I said.

The baby’s sudden appearance felt ominous, as though my past was following me into my present, whispering that it couldn’t so easily be forgotten. I’d just left hundreds of orphans behind in Goma even though they desperately needed me, and the guilt I carried was already a constant reminder of that. I didn’t need another abandoned baby in my life.

•   •   •

He’d started screaming at three a.m. and hadn’t stopped since. Not even a pillow pulled over my head could drown out the noise. I’d considered coming to their aid but since Ruth clearly saw herself as some maternal fairy godmother, I’d decided against it. I didn’t know why she’d responded to the child as strongly as she had—if it was just another example of her white savior complex or if something else was at play—but the sooner she was stripped of those notions, the better.

When I came through to the lounge the next morning, I found Ruth exactly where I’d left her: sitting on the couch with the baby swaddled in her arms and the dog lying next to her. Her eyes were bloodshot but, for once, it wasn’t from alcohol. Judging by the sound of things, they’d both had a rough night.

“Oh good, you’re up,” Ruth said. She looked so happy to see me that I had to turn away and busy myself with making coffee.

I wished she wasn’t there. I was used to my morning ritual of calling the ICU in peace. It would have to wait now. “Have you been up with him all night?”