The morning after the mountain ridge felt too much. 

The images of the "Nursery" and those empty metal cribs were stuck in my head like a bad song. I spent the early hours in the Academy gardens, trying to breathe in the scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine to wash away the smell of chemicals.

My stomach was now a constant reminder that the clock was ticking. The babies were active, their movements feeling like small ripples in a pond. 

I was no longer just Amaya; I was a vessel for our future, and that future was under attack.

"You're up early," a voice said.

I didn't need to...