September 28, 1929
Savannah, Georgia

A strong wind blew against a large old fashioned house, trees scraping against the roof and windows. From the top of the stone chimney, the wind blew in, threatening to put the fire out. Walking over to the hearth, and picking up the wrought iron fire poker, Sebastian shifted the logs around, just trying to keep himself busy. He placed a few pieces of chopped wood down on the smoldering fire, the flames creeping to the logs.

Sebastian stared into the fire, his eyes searching for an answer to his situation. He gave a forceful thrust of the poker into the wood, splitting one of the logs in half. A chunk of wood hopped out and onto the carpet in front of the fireplace. In quick succession, he kicked the wood back into the fire and stomped on the carpet but it was too late. There was a black hole on it now and he knew his wife, Amara, would kill him for it.

This was her favorite rug, the one they had picked out together while on tour in France just last spring. She told him it reminded him of spring in her home country, Dutchland: warm reds and yellows mixed with cool blues and greens. A collage of the sky meeting the earth on a clear bright spring morning. But now, he has ruined it with his carelessness.

The memories of their vacation were cut off, his wife’s screams coming from the other room. He gripped the poker tight, eyes fixed on the door. He wanted to go into the room, hold his wife tight, and tell her that everything would be alright. That she and their baby will live to see another day. But he couldn't, he knew he would just get in the way and he wasn’t even sure if that was true. Deep down, he knew the truth: the chances of his Amara surviving this were not good. The only thing he could do was pray to a God he wasn’t even sure he believed in.

It felt like time had stopped when one of the midwives timidly stepped out of the room, the shouts from before did not follow her outside.

The midwife had a pensive look on her face, her brow pulled tight, her lips pursed even tighter. Her face was flushed, once neatly tucked away hairs now glued to her forehead and neck. The gown she wore was covered in blood, much more blood than Sebastian thought to be possible from one person. He was already beginning to fear the worst, his gut twisting in knots, he could feel his throat tighten and his mouth dry out. What had become of his beloved wife?

“Amara…” Sebastian finally managed to choke out, the words coming out in a croak. “How…how is she?”

The midwife could only shake her head. She moved to the side, the scared husband rushing in.

The room smelled of many different herbs and flowers, sweet and musky mixing with the iron smell of blood and the pungent smells of midwives' sweat. The room was hazy from the smoke of incense and melting candle wax, the candles being the only light in the small room. In the middle of the room, surrounded by midwives, laid on a mattress, blankets, and fur pelts used in an attempt to keep her comfortable was Amara.

Two of the midwives gently patted Amara’s neck and face with damp cloths while another did her best to clean up the blood. The hair that once sat atop Amara’s hair now fell in large coils, soaked with sweat and water. Her dark, rich skin had now paled as if the sun that burned inside her had been extinguished. She looked as if she was sleeping, her eyelids drawn, her face unmoving. It could hardly be told that she was still alive; the only indicator being the small naked tanned lump on her chest rising and slowly falling.

Amara opened her eyes, the task feeling impossible for her to do. She tried to raise her head but one of the midwives stopped her. “You must not move right now, sweetheart. Reserve your energy, you have a baby to protect.”

Amara let out a chuckle, her voice weaker than a newborn sheep drying to bleat for the first time. “Protect…what use is holding on to energy when I know what is to come next?” Still, Amara rested her head back down, placing one of her hands on top of her baby’s back. She glanced towards the door when her husband stood. “Is that you, Sebastian? Please, come here.”

Wasting no time, the man went to his wife’s side, taking her free hand into his. “My wife…my beautiful wife. Is there anything I can do to ease your pain? Anything at all?”

“Beautiful…you fill my head with such wondrous lies, thank you. The only thing I ask of you is to stay by my side.” Amara’s voice cracked, and her eyes began to glaze over, a single tear escaping and sliding down her cheek. Sebastian gently wiped it away with his thumb, cupping Amara’s face. “I can’t thank God enough, for giving me the strength to hold the gift we’ve created before I take my eternal rest. I want to thank you, for the love and wonder that you’ve shown me over the years. Please show our daughter the same promises and more.”

Hot tears slowly dragged down Sebastian’s face. His hand around Amara’s tightened. “I can’t let you go, not yet! Please, don’t leave me.” His voice shook and cracked, his heart pounding with fear. Why couldn’t she stay? Why did it have to be like this?

“I ask one more thing of you, my husband. Please, take me to the hilltop and watch the sunrise with me one last time. Yes, I think I can make it until then, to have one night and one morning with you and our daughter, that is all I ask for now.”

Sebastian turned his gaze over to the midwives who had since made themselves scarce and stood by the door of the room. “Please, will you help us?”

The women began to move, working to make the couple's last wish come true.

One midwife grabbed the newborn and wrapped her carefully in soft fur. Another took off Amara’s soiled robes and two more dressed her, the last midwife doing her best to rearrange her hair. Once all was settled, Sebastian picked up his wife, cradling her head in the bend of his elbow, her legs draped over his forearm. The midwife who wrapped the baby, placed her in her mother's arm. Amara let out a soft thank you, placing a soft kiss atop the baby’s head.

Before leaving the room, Sebastian turned to the group of midwives. “I know you did all you could, thank you for everything.” Sebastian left the house for his journey, holding onto his wife and child dearly.

On the walk to the tallest hill, Sebastian and Amara reminisced about their courting days, remembering the first time they caught each other's eye at the market on that fateful day four years ago. Sebastian confessed how nervous he had been, unsure of himself with such a beautiful woman in his presence. Amara said that she had known instantly that she wanted nothing more than to be with him. That he was the most gracious and loving man she had ever met. Sebastian couldn’t help but cry at her words. How could he be all these things if he couldn’t even save her?

The sun was beginning its ascend as the trio reached the top of the hill.

“I have already sent a letter to my family, they will retrieve my body in three days but will leave our daughter with you,” Amara said once they had settled on top of the hill. Sebastian held her close, trying to fight off the reality of the situation. Time was against them.

“I haven’t a clue how to raise a child, let alone a daughter. If she is anything like you, she will be fierce and headstrong, too adventurous for her own good.”

Amara laughed. It was the laugh that he had grown so fond of over the years. The kind of laugh that came from deep inside, that was unapologetic and quelled his restless spirits. A laugh he knew he would never be able to hear again. He clung to this, never wanting to forget anything about the woman in his arms.

“Yes, she will cause you headache but it will be for the betterment of you both. She will bring delight and inspiration to your life, just as you have to me.”

The two sat in silence, watching the sunrise, casting a blanket of sunshine and warmth upon them.

“Amara, wait for me, please.”

“I wouldn’t think of anything different.”

“What will we name her?”

“Agnodice.”