He’s been with Search & Rescue for years. I’ve seen him carry full-grown men out of mudslides, climb into collapsed roofs, even dive without backup when the sonar glitched. But I’ve never seen him look like this. He sent me the photo from his satellite phone. Said, “We pulled the baby from Building 6.”
Only I knew Building 6. It used to be a bakery. Converted into a short-term office rental. No tenants. No cribs. No families. And the main door? Reinforced. Padlocked. And still sealed. I zoomed in. The baby’s swaddled in a fleece blanket with stars and clouds—identical to the one our aunt hand-stitched six months ago.
The one she buried with her daughter’s son. Stillborn. I didn’t want to say anything. But then my cousin called.
