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baby.”
    “Santa will bring him, right?”
    Maggie’s vaccinations would fend off measles, but Lisbeth knew for certain the shot had not been invented that would protect her daughter from a broken heart. Inhaling the scent of tear-free shampoo, Lisbeth wished she could seal her baby inside a sterile bubble. A place where nothing bad ever happened to children or their mothers. A place where little girls didn’t wish for parents who couldn’t or wouldn’t return. A place where families were never separated. No such place existed. Past or present.
    Lisbeth pulled Maggie close. Her tiny, fist-sized heart beat steadily beneath her thin gown. Lisbeth held her breath waiting for her daughter to launch her usual struggle for freedom. When she didn’t, Lisbeth drew her closer. Maybe Papa was right. It wasn’t Maggie she was protecting, but herself. She’d crack if she couldn’t hang on to the reason she’d given up both her mother and the love of her life to stay in the twenty-first century.
    Any explanation she could offer for Santa’s inability to bringMaggie’s daddy from his world and put him under their tree would break Maggie’s tender heart. What kind of a mother gives her kid heartache for Christmas? But Maggie was a smart kid. Perhaps the time had come to start working through Maggie’s need for a father. She could tell her a little about him and save the rest of the impossibly-difficult-to-believe story for when she was older.
    “Daddy lives far away. If he could, I know he would come to you.” Lisbeth swallowed the lie stuck in her throat. “Somehow. Some way.”
    “If Santa can’t bring him, I’ll ask God.”
    She’d tried prayer. A million times. So far God hadn’t reunited her family. The silence had drilled holes in the rookie faith she’d brought back with her from the third century. No doubt about that. But prayer was the only hope she had to offer. “Good idea.”
    Maggie wiggled free. “Too tight, Mommy.”
    “Sorry.” Lisbeth eased her grip, and Maggie’s tiny body relaxed. “’Night, baby.”
    Maggie drifted back to sleep. Lisbeth waited until she was out soundly; then she carefully tucked little arms and legs inside the blanket. Cyprian’s exile had carried him miles from the portal. He couldn’t come to them, even if he knew his daughter existed. And until Egypt opened access to the cave, going to him was impossible.
    In the glow of the Little Mermaid lamp, Lisbeth traced the outline of Maggie’s perfect little face. Mama’s words drifted into her thoughts. “You can’t possibly know how much I love you until you become a mother.”
    She was right. The moment the nurse placed the swaddled baby in her arms, Lisbeth had known instinctively why small animals charge predators twice their size to protect their young. She could do it. Fight to save her child, even against something as difficult to pin down as the unpredictable consequences of parental loss.
    Lisbeth couldn’t help snuggling in beside Maggie. She held her breath, waiting to be pushed away. When Maggie didn’t move, she inhaled the sweet scent of her, savoring each breath as if she’d just surfaced from being underwater too long.
    For now, she’d focus on what she could do for her child: get this current measles outbreak under control. There had to be a simple explanation for the patients she’d lost in the past few days. Compromised immune systems. Weakened hearts. Something. Until she had autopsy reports, though, speculating on the connection was borrowing trouble and wasting valuable time and energy.
    Lisbeth gave in to the exhaustion, allowing her heavy eyelids to close and shut off the nagging feeling that she’d missed something important. Gradually, her own respirations synced with the peaceful in and out of Maggie’s slumber.
    But the sudden vibration of her phone jerked Lisbeth alert. One arm around Maggie, she struggled to fish the cell from her pocket.
    A text from Nelda glowed on the screen.
    Five