He has been part of Search & Rescue for years. I’ve watched him carry grown men out of mudslides, crawl into collapsed roofs, and dive into dark water when equipment failed. Nothing ever seemed to shake him. But when he sent me a photo from his satellite phone, I knew something was different.
The message read: “We pulled the baby from Building 6.” His words carried relief, but I froze. I knew that building. It had once been a bakery before becoming a small office rental. There had been no tenants in months, no reason for a baby to be inside.
Even stranger, the main entrance had been sealed. Reinforced, padlocked, untouched. If the team went in, it wasn’t through that door. How, then, did a swaddled infant appear inside? I zoomed in on the photo, searching for details.
The blanket struck me first. Fleece, patterned with stars and clouds. It wasn’t just familiar—it was identical to the one our aunt had sewn by hand six months ago. She had stitched it for her daughter’s son, who was stillborn.