Lena lay in the snow, the contractions now a relentless, crushing tide, stealing her breath and her remaining strength. “Help… someone, please,” she whispered to the grey, indifferent sky.

Through a haze of pain, she saw the headlights grow brighter. A car. A flicker of hope ignited in her chest. The vehicle, an older but well-maintained sedan, pulled over. A tall, grey-haired man in a simple winter coat and a fur hat got out, his face etched with alarm.

“My God, what happened?” he asked, his voice gentle and full of concern as he knelt beside her.

“The baby… it’s coming,” Lena gasped.

The man didn’t hesitate. He scooped her up in his arms—he was surprisingly strong—and carefully placed her on the back seat of his car, covering her with his own jacket. “Hang on, dear, we’ll get you there,” he said, his calm demeanor a lifeline in her sea of panic. “What’s your name?”