PART 1: It was nearly two in the morning when the automatic doors of Lakeside Regional Hospital slid open with a quiet mechanical sigh. A blast of icy air swept into the emergency lobby, carrying with it the smell of snow and something far heavier. Fear.
A boy no older than eight stepped inside, his thin sneakers soaked through, his pajama pants too short for his legs. In his arms, wrapped tightly in a faded green blanket, was a baby girl who whimpered weakly, her cries exhausted rather than loud.
The night shift nurse at the front desk looked up in confusion, then horror.
