The hospital felt too bright and too cold.

Hours had already passed since the police brought the children in. Surgery was over, but Jamie was still unconscious, pale, and frighteningly still. Everyone waited—waiting for a miracle, for a word, for anything.

Anika sat curled in a chair, her small hands clutching her coat. Maya paced back and forth, unable to sit, her fingers shaking uncontrollably. Elias stayed beside her the entire time, rubbing her arms and telling her to breathe even though his own voice trembled.

Mr. and Mrs. Denovan spoke quietly to the officers, thanking them again for arriving in time. But everyone kept glancing toward the emergency room...