“It went fine. Had some minor annoying things to take care of. Anyway, Ascanio said you went to see the witches.”

My whole body tried to squeeze itself into a fist. “Later.”

Curran studied me. “Okay. Later.”

“Andrea’s been taking panacea,” I said.

“Yes.”

“She will be fine.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Her baby won’t go loup.” I was talking to myself now.

“It will be okay, baby.”

The double doors clanged open. The renders and I jumped to our feet. Curran wrapped his arms around me, pinning my back to his chest. Nasrin appeared in the doorway, her face tired.

I forgot how to breathe.

“Come on.” Nasrin stepped aside, letting us through.

We followed her through the doors. My heart was beating too fast. Andrea half lay, half sat on the bed, propped up on pillows, her blond hair damp, looking like she’d sprinted all the way to Florida and back. Raphael stood next to her with his back to us. Doolittle slumped in his wheelchair, exhausted. The rest of the people must’ve left through the side door.

Where was the baby?

Raphael turned. A small bundle of blankets rested in his arms. He moved one of the folds aside, revealing a tiny red squished face and a shock of dark hair.

“Beatrice Kate Medrano,” he said. “Named after her grandmother and you.”

“Me?”

“You. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have met,” he said.

Andrea opened her eyes and smiled. “We’re going to call her Baby B.”

“No trace of loupism,” Nasrin said behind us.

“Here.” Raphael handed me the baby.

Aaa!

“It’s okay.” Andrea chuckled. “She isn’t made of glass.”

I very carefully took the baby. She was so tiny. So light. Her little hands were curled into fists. There was nothing and now there was a life. A little tiny helpless life.

I stood perfectly still and watched her breathe. She was full of light. It seemed to stream from her little plump cheeks and her dark eyelashes, suffusing her whole body. Her fingers were so tiny.

“Someone take my baby before Kate faints,” Andrea said.

I realized I’d been holding my breath.

Curran gently took her out of my hands, held her for a long moment, and passed her to Raphael. Raphael sat on the bed next to Andrea and murmured something I couldn’t quite catch. Andrea’s eyes shone. Such a happy, content light. She looked completely at peace.

In four weeks Atlanta would burn.

Curran’s hand rested on my shoulder.

Atlanta would burn, and Baby B’s world would change. She wouldn’t know it, because she was a tiny baby. But my father would reach out and strangle her future.