CHAPTER 44: 44: THE WORLD IS HOLDING ITS BREATH

Zara’s arms shook as she cradled Leo, his small, fragile body feeling like a dead weight against her chest. Each cough that tore through him was like a knife to her heart. His chest heaved, shallow and laboured, and his face was flushed with a damp sheen of sweat. She could feel the trembling of his body as he struggled to breathe.

She could feel the tremors in his chest as his breath came in uneven gasps, and her hands shook as she tried to gently pat his back, hoping that somehow it would ease his discomfort. But it wasn’t helping. Nothing was helping.

She tried to steady her breathing, tried to keep her mounting panic from showing on her face, but the uneven rise and fall of her chest betrayed her.

"Shhh, baby, shhh," she murmured, gently patting his back. The sound of his hacking coughs didn’t subside, and a deep sense of dread began clawing its way up her spine. His face, flushed red, was damp with sweat as he buried it into her neck, whimpering softly between coughs.

From her position by the door, Mia turned, her eyes narrowing as she noticed the struggle. "What’s going on?" she asked, stepping forward.

Zara didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Words felt useless against the frantic swirl of fear and helplessness flooding her mind. Instead, her gaze flicked to Leo’s face again, her breath hitching in her chest when she noticed his eyes were glassy, unfocused. She swallowed hard, pushing the fear back down as she began to search him over for any visible signs of harm. She shifted Leo slightly, holding him closer as she scanned his small face for any sign—a rash, a fever, something to explain this. Her fingers hovered uncertainly over his skin, brushing damp hair away from his forehead. Nothing.

"Leo, baby, please talk to me," she whispered, her voice a broken plea. She brushed his damp hair away from his forehead, her fingers trembling.

"What’s wrong, baby?" But he only whimpered again, his breath hitching as he clung to her tighter.

From across the dimly lit room, Kit stirred, rubbing his eyes as he pushed himself upright. "What’s happening?" he mumbled, his voice groggy. His gaze darted to Zara, then to Leo. The concern in his expression deepened. "Is he sick?"

Zara shook her head quickly, almost reflexively. She didn’t have an answer. Not one that would reassure Kit or herself. Before she could say anything, Kit fumbled with something around his neck, pulling free a frayed string with a battered button dangling at its centre.

"Here," he said, holding it out to her with trembling hands. "It’s my lucky charm. It’ll help him. It always helps me."

For a moment, Zara’s heart clenched. The gesture was so earnest, so heartbreakingly innocent, that she felt a lump rise in her throat. She forced a faint smile and took the button, squeezing it gently.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she said, her voice soft. "That’s very kind of you."

Kit nodded, his small face solemn. He scooted closer, pressing against her side and resting his head on her shoulder. "Don’t worry, Mom," he murmured sleepily. "Baby Leo’s strong. Just like you."

The word hit her like a lightning strike. "Mom." She froze, the faint smile on her lips faltering. She opened her mouth to correct him but stopped herself. What was the point? Kit needed comfort, and right now, she was the only one who could give it to him. She exhaled slowly, leaning into the moment, even as the weight of the word pressed against her chest.

Mia had been watching from the doorway, her arms crossed tightly. When Zara glanced her way, their eyes met briefly. There was something in Mia’s expression—a flicker of longing, or maybe unease. But as soon as Zara tried to read it, Mia looked away, her face hardening.

"I’ll keep watch tonight," Mia said abruptly, her voice stiff as she turned toward the door. Zara hesitated, but Mia was already stepping outside, her expression tight.

Zara’s thoughts were still spinning, but she couldn’t afford to focus on Mia’s mood right now. She looked down at Leo, who had finally calmed enough to sleep, his breathing more regular but still faintly ragged.

"Okay," she said quietly, still holding Leo close.

Mia didn’t reply. She stepped outside, the faint creak of the door the only sound as it swung shut behind her.

That night, the fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the worn walls of their makeshift shelter. Kit had long since drifted off, his small body curled against Zara’s side. Leo’s breathing had evened out, though he clung to her still, his tiny hands clutching at her shirt as if afraid to let go.

Zara stroked Leo’s back gently, whispering softly, "It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s got you. You’re safe. Everything’s okay."

But it wasn’t. Not really. Not when she still didn’t know what was wrong with him.

Her mind raced with questions she couldn’t answer, fears she couldn’t shake. What if something was wrong with Leo? What if it was his... space? She shuddered at the thought. If anyone found out about his abilities, their fragile existence would shatter in an instant. People would take him. Experiment on him. Use him. She couldn’t let that happen.

As she held him, she felt a faint warmth emanating from his skin, followed by a soft, almost imperceptible shimmer. Her breath caught. No. What was this? His space had never shimmered before.

"Leo, stop," she whispered urgently, cupping the back of his head. "You have to stop."

The shimmering grew brighter, a faint glow outlining his small frame. Zara’s heart pounded in her chest. She glanced toward the door, praying Mia hadn’t noticed. With trembling hands, she rocked Leo gently, murmuring soothing words.

"Shhh, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay. Just breathe."

Slowly, the glow faded, the light dimming until it disappeared entirely. Leo stirred, letting out a small sigh as he nestled closer to her. Zara’s shoulders sagged with relief, but her pulse remained frantic. This confirmed it. His space—his gift, his curse—was causing these episodes. And she had no idea how to stop it.

Sleep was impossible after that. She sat awake, her arms wrapped protectively around both children, her eyes fixed on the door. Every creak, every rustle of the wind outside, set her on edge. She didn’t relax until the first pale light of dawn began to creep through the cracks in the walls.

*****

The next day brought a fresh layer of snow, and the world outside their shelter was blanketed in white. It would have been beautiful if it weren’t so cold, so unforgiving. Zara adjusted her scarf, pulling it tightly around her face as the group walked through a narrow, snow-covered pass. Mia walked ahead as always, her posture tense, her eyes scanning the horizon. Every so often, she glanced back, her expression unreadable. Zara’s unease grew with each passing minute.

"Mia," she said finally, quickening her pace to match the other girl’s. "What is it? Do you see something?"

Mia shook her head, but the motion was too quick, too dismissive. "It’s nothing," she muttered. "Keep moving."

Zara frowned but didn’t press further. She checked on Leo who was sleeping against her and kept walking. He had finally calmed down enough to sleep just as the sun came up. Kit trudged beside her, his small boots crunching through the snow.

But as they wound their way through a narrow pass, her senses went on high alert. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and her eyes darted around the landscape, searching for any sign of movement.

"Mia," Zara whispered, keeping her voice low. "Do you feel that?"

Mia, walking just ahead, glanced back at her, her face as hard as ever. "Feel what?" she asked dismissively, though Zara saw the way her eyes flickered to the horizon as if she was already aware of something lurking in the distance.

Zara didn’t answer. She just pressed forward, trying to keep the unease from consuming her. They had only just turned a corner when Zara’s eyes caught something: fresh tracks in the snow, deep impressions that hadn’t yet settled.

Her heart skipped a beat.

They were large, too large to belong to any of them, and they veered sharply off the path, disappearing into the trees. She stopped abruptly, holding out a hand to signal the others.

"Stay here," she whispered, her voice low but firm.

Mia turned, her gaze following Zara’s. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the tracks. Without a word, she moved closer, her hand instinctively resting on the knife at her belt.

Zara’s pulse quickened as she scanned the area.

From somewhere in the distance, voices drifted through the trees, rough and guttural.

"Gang patrol," Mia hissed under her breath.

Zara’s stomach clenched. She motioned for Kit to crouch beside her, pulling him close. "Stay quiet," she whispered

"...this whole damn thing’s gonna fall apart with the rising gang wars," one voice muttered. "The cache’s the only thing that’ll keep us safe. You know what I mean?"

Zara’s heart raced. The sound of footsteps grew closer.

The second man snorted. "If the rumors are true, we’ll make a killing."

Zara’s eyes darted toward the others, signaling them to stay low.

But then—one of the men stopped abruptly, sniffing the air. His eyes narrowed.

Then, slowly, he turned.