12:45 AM. St. Nicholas Hospital, Lagos Island.

The waiting room smelled of antiseptic, floor wax, and cold, recycled air. It was a smell Aria knew she would never forget.

She sat on a hard plastic chair, huddled under Damian’s trench coat. Her clothes were still damp, sticking uncomfortably to her skin, but she refused to go home. She couldn’t leave. Not until she knew the outcome.

Damian stood by the vending machine, speaking in hushed tones to Max, likely managing the press storm that was gathering outside the hospital gates.

The double doors at the entrance flew open.

Mr. and Mrs. Carter burst in.

They looked nothing like the New...