She watched the baby’s chest.
It rose.
Then a long pause.
Then it rose again.
Too slow.
Behind Greiss, the two men in sunglasses had moved three steps closer.
The taller one spoke into his wrist without moving his lips.
Four years ago, Lauren had stood in a different room and made a promise to a woman named Dana Marlowe.
Dana had just buried her husband.
Daniel Marlowe had been a translator for the State Department.
He died on a mountain road in a convoy Lauren was supposed to protect.
Lauren lived.
Daniel did not.
She kept Dana and little Josie alive for 14 months afterward.
Then the program moved them.
New names, new town, new handler.
Lauren was cut off and told never to look.
She resigned two weeks later.
She told no one why.
Now a child stood in front of her holding a pair of yellow gloves.
