Alex turned back to Charlotte. She was lying back, hair plastered to her scalp with sweat. She looked as if she’d been in a good fight and had come out on the losing side. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He bent down and kissed her mouth. Charlotte didn’t stir. He bit her lip sharply. Her eyes flew open.

There he was again, bothering her. She frowned at him.

“We need to do it one more time, Charlotte. Come on, the contraction is coming. We can get the baby out this time, Charlotte!” And then, in answer to her unspoken plea, “Just one more time, Charlotte.” And he hoped it was true.

So as the pain wrenched its way up her legs and into her chest Charlotte clutched her husband’s hands and pushed, one last time.

There was a shout from the end of the bed. “I’ve got him!” Dr. Seedland said hoarsely. And a second later there was a fierce, thin wail.

In the room across the hall, Sophie and Patrick had given up. They were curled up in the huge armchair like a pair of hibernating animals, taking pure animal comfort from each other’s nearness. For a while they listened carefully, but when Alex shouted, “No, no!” Sophie slumped back against Patrick. She was too tired even to cry anymore. Patrick was stricken with grief for his twin. In the back of his mind, he knew that Alex would never get over this, never. Alex had loved Charlotte; he had failed her; she had died. Mentally, Patrick sat in the chair gathering his strength to fight for his twin’s life.

But then a baby’s tiny wail pierced the silence. Patrick literally leaped from the chair and Sophie was launched into the air and flew down to the ground: whack! She fell on her left shoulder.

Sophie screamed with pain, and Patrick instantly scooped her up into his arms. They poised there, absolutely silent, until another spiraling wail hit the air. An uneasy thought occurred to Patrick. Had the doctor “rescued” the baby? Or did Alex succeed in waking up Charlotte? He had told his twin to wake her up, but he had almost no hope that it was possible. Patrick set Sophie on her feet and opened the door into the hallway.

The door to the bedroom was open. Patrick’s heart quailed; the bed was absolutely soaked in blood. But then … there was Alex, striding toward them, a huge grin splitting his face. And in his arms was a tiny, tiny little scrap of humanity.

“See?” Alex held back the flap of the white blanket so they could see a red face and small mouth, opening and shutting.

“He’s hungry,” Sophie said, fascinated. “Or, she’s hungry?”