The silence pressed against Daisy's skin like a living thing, heavy with all the words she couldn't force past her lips. Her mind kept replaying it—Leonard, standing there, see-through as morning mist but solid as a memory. The veil is thin. The words echoed in her head, a broken record scratch she couldn't shake.
She glanced at the sleeping kids sprawled around her room, their faces soft in sleep despite everything. Rosie had finally dozed off, curled up at the foot of the bed like a guard dog who'd lost the fight with exhaustion. The steady rise and fall of their breathing should have been comforting. Instead, it just made her feel more alone.
The screaming from the quarantine wing had stopped hours ago. Christian and the others had managed to calm the pregnant leopards, though no one
