“This was the first miracle. Babies cry when fire comes — babies cry when the air changes, when the temperature shifts, when the world around them becomes something other than the world they were promised. This baby did not cry. This baby was silent, the eyes open, the dark eyes looking up at her mother's face with the particular calm of a creature that does not yet understand danger but that understands, in the animal way that all creatures understand, the heartbeat of the person holding it: fast, faster, the rhythm that said run.”