Roman burst through the warehouse doors with his mother’s weight still heavy in his arms.

Cold air slapped him hard as he crossed into the open lot, breath tearing from his chest.

Snow and sand crunched beneath his boots as he carried Salima toward the car, his focus narrowed to one thing only — getting her away, and getting her safe.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, voice low, and urgent. “Mom, look at me. Just breathe.”

Her head lolled against his shoulder, eyes fluttering, lips pale.

“I’m here,” she whispered faintly. “Don't worry.”

Relief surged through him, sharp and almost painful.

As Roman rushed toward his car — a sound...