The dog caught her heavily coated arm and knocked her into the snow. I saw two men, I didn’t know if they were guards or what, hurrying toward her through the drifts. She was screaming—I saw the bright O of her mouth—and the dog wasn’t releasing her arm. He pulled her across the pure white canvas. I could not, would not let Grant see this. I put him back in the crib, and now, happy to have been held, he fussed for me. He wanted me to hold him, for the first time, and my heart tore in two. I rushed back to the window, fearful.

She stood now, thankfully, but wobbly, one of the men having pulled the dog off, the other one having helped her to her feet. The sleeve of her coat was in shreds and I saw blood drops dotting the snow.

The dog was under control though, not attacking her, and a shudder of relief went through me. I watched as they led her not to the main building but…to the road that cuts through the orphanage’s compound. They were not even taking her to the infirmary. Or the nurse.

They were just removing her.

I ran from Grant’s room, I hurried down the steps. I found a side door and burst out of it. I ran toward the trio in the snow. The dog looked at me and growled.

“What are you doing?” I yelled at the guards, or staffers, or whatever they are. “She needs medical attention.”

Anya stared at me, wildness in her eyes. And gratitude. I had showed her Sasha.

One of the guards talked to me in shattered English. “She is problem lady,” he said. “Many problem. Not to be here.”

“Help me, help me,” Anya yelled.

“Stop!” I made them stop and looked at her arm. The heavy fabric of the coat and her sweater protected her, but the arm was badly bruised and there were two narrow marks, oozing blood.

“Doctor,” I said. “She needs a doctor!”

“Choice,” the guard said. “If doctor come here, police come, too, arrest. If she go to doctor in town, no call police. Her choice.”

“Her baby,” I said, pointing to the building.

“Not her baby,” the guard said. He wiggled a finger near the brain. Anya looked down at the snow.

“Please don’t do this,” I said. “Think of what your mother would say. Your own mother.”

This plea didn’t move them.

“You want YOUR baby? Go back into building, lady,” the guard told me. They pulled Anya away and I couldn’t stop them. I heard the threat in his tone.

I watched them drag her away in the snow. She screamed “Sasha!” twice.