The darkest, deadest part of it looked smaller.

The swelling had eased.

It did not mean I was safe — I was a very long way from safe — but for the first time since the truck went down, the thing was moving in the right direction instead of the wrong one.

“Just a little longer,” I whispered to my daughter, both hands on my belly, where I could feel her shift, faint but there.

“Someone has to be looking for us by now.