“Panicked cries pierce me like quills. I huddle inside the church with the other women and children. Mothers squeeze their babies against their chests, but my hands hold nothing.

I run toward a small boy, naked except for his loincloth, who is sobbing into his hands. His name is Luc and he was baptized last winter after his older brother died from a fever, to protect him, his parents hoped. I pick him up but I can’t find his mother.”