Luna's second cry changed everything.
Not just in the delivery room. In the entire building. Hell, probably in the entire city.
The first cry had been normal baby stuff—announcing her arrival, demanding attention, letting everyone know she had working lungs. But the second cry? That was something else entirely.
It started as a normal infant wail, but then it shifted. The sound carried harmonics that bypassed my ears and went straight to my chest, my heart, my bones. Like someone had tuned into a frequency that every living thing recognized on a cellular level.
Through the delivery room windows, I watched something impossible happen.
The fighting stopped.
