Pierrot stared at the newborn, her tiny form swaddled tightly in a blanket, with smoky tendrils curling around her as if the haze was alive, breathing in sync with her.
Her skin was pale, almost translucent, and her small fists peeked out from the swaddling, clenched tight against the cold air of the dimly lit room.
"What do we do now?" Pierrot's voice trembled slightly as he cradled the baby carefully, holding her close to his chest as though she might break at the slightest movement.
"We need to get out of here. Let's take the child for now," Sycamore said, looking around inside the room. "This place gives me the creeps."
He spoke over the radio to bring in all the priests in the monastery for questioning at headquarters and a medic for Dianne.
