Waiting.
The word echoed through Samantha's mind long after the red flames guttered out, leaving only wisps of smoke curling toward the ceiling. She stood frozen at the crib's edge, her hand hovering inches above Nova's sleeping form, afraid that touching her daughter might trigger another surge.
"Sam." Kai's voice was soft behind her, his hand settling on her shoulder with gentle pressure. "Breathe, love. You're holding your breath."
She hadn't realized. The moment she inhaled, her lungs burned with the effort, and tears pricked her eyes—not from pain, but from the overwhelming terror of nearly losing control of her child to something unknown.
"I can't—" Her voice cracked. "I can't protect her from something that's inside her."
Marcus moved to her other side, his presence a solid anchor in the chaos. "Then we don't protect her from it. We protect her with it."
