Without hesitation, Jonathan stepped out and knelt beside her. “Is she breathing?” he called to no one in particular, though no one answered. He pressed two fingers to her wrist. A faint pulse. Shallow, but there.

Maya stirred weakly, whispering, “Please… my babies…” before her eyes fluttered shut again.

Jonathan dialed 911 at once, his voice firm and urgent. While waiting, he crouched low to meet the frightened eyes of the twins. They clung to him without hesitation, as if instinctively sensing safety. “It’s okay,” he murmured, surprising even himself with the gentleness in his tone. “Your mommy’s going to be okay. I’m right here.”