“Not her education, not her upbringing, not her experiences, not any of her training for the Mercy Ship program. Nothing. Death was final. Death was irrevocable. Life was flutterings and tremblings. It was warm breath and soft sighs. It was flesh that felt warm and didn’t look waxy. In her arms, the dead baby felt almost weightless, as if its bones were hollow, like a bird’s bones. Just minutes before, its lungs had filled with air and it had looked up into her face. Now those same eyes star...ed fixedly, their pupils dilated. They would never see again. Heather began to shake, and despite the intensity of the noonday sun, she felt icy cold. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t abandon the baby. She couldn’t dig a hole, put the baby in it, and cover it over as she and Amber had done for their goldfish when they’d been kids. She couldn’t go too far away, either. What if the mother returned? What if she wanted her child back? Somehow Heather made it to the tree.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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