Third Solstice CALIBRE with cover by Harper

painful colour in his cheeks. “Eleanor loves Ma. I haven’t told her this has happened. I didn’t want to give her a shock, not in...”
    A brief silence fell. Gideon broke it, irrepressible laughter shaking his voice. “In her condition ? Are you kidding me?”
    “It was why I came to see you this morning. For some unknowable reason, I thought you might be sympathetic.”
    Gideon bounced to his feet. This was too bloody much, this was, after years of moral high ground and holier-than-thou . He strode to the end of the little waiting room and back. Its confines felt too small to contain his reaction: he wanted to run and shout. “Eleanor’s pregnant ?”
    “Yes. She only just told me. She hasn’t even had a scan. Enjoy yourself, Gideon, but remember what this means to me. I’ve proved myself a hypocrite to my congregation. I may have to give up my ministry.”
    His words fell harmlessly as spent arrows, deprived of momentum and meaning. Gideon could scarcely hear him. The entire situation was too beautiful—the ultimate levelling of the mountainous playing field between them, and best of all a perfect excuse not to think about what was happening in the ICU ward beyond the glass doors. He took another turn of the waiting room, stopped and folded his arms. “Wow, Ezekiel. Devil’s work indeed.”
    But a white-coated figure had appeared through the glass. Lee, who could read the tiniest shift in his expression as well as his mind, got up and came to stand beside him. Gideon held out a hand to Zeke: steadied him as he lurched upright with the baby. The three were shoulder-to-shoulder when the glass doors swished apart.
    The doctor’s name was Pearce. Hers had been the third face Gideon had registered upon emerging from his coma on this very same ICU ward, and she’d become painfully familiar to him during the days and weeks that had followed. He’d wiped out the memory of her afterwards, just as he’d set aside all other recall of his brush with death. Was it better or worse that she was here now? She was tough as nails, but very good at what she did. If anyone could restore his mother to life... “How is she?” he asked, because although Zeke was the eldest and a minister, the nominal head of the family now that their father was gone, he was speechless with terror and grief. “Is there any change?”
    “I’m sorry, Sergeant. Her EEG shows a serious reduction in brain activity.”
    “Is she on life support?”
    “Minimal. You’ll be aware that she has strict instructions in place.”
    Gideon was aware. She’d asked him to help her draw up her living will, afraid that her other son would try and put God’s will before it. “And her cutoff point’s been reached?”
    “Yes. If you and your family want to go to the bedside, that’s fine. I’ll have a cot brought in for the little girl.”
    Ezekiel twitched. “I don’t understand,” he rasped. “What are you saying?”
    “We’re losing her, I’m afraid.”
     
    ***
     
    Despite everything, Gideon slept. He’d worn himself out with his race through the Montol streets, and once a passing nurse had stopped off to bandage his hand, the cessation of pain had knocked away his last prop. He jolted awake in the small hours, horrified at his dereliction of duty. Lee was crouching in front of the armchair in the warm little ICU room. “Hush, love. It’s all right.”
    “Tamsyn?”
    “Asleep in the next room. Zeke’s having a nap through there too.”
    “Ma?”
    “No change.”
    That covered Gideon’s list of concerns. No, not quite. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Shit. I forgot the dog.”
    “I phoned Sarah Kemp. She said she’d go and take her back to hers.”
    Silently blessing good mindful husbands and neighbours with spare door keys, Gideon planted a kiss on Lee’s brow. “Thank you. Are you all right?”
    “Fine. I’ve just been sitting by Ma’s bed.”
    “Well, come and sit here for a minute with me.” Gideon scrunched over as far