Grayson was less than a month shy of his 4th birthday. Based on her previous pregnancy, and the date of conception, everyone thought this was the last good opportunity for
Blackjack to take
Grayson out of town to visit Great-Great Oncle Paul in
Atlanta, Georgia. In two weeks,
then it would be time to take all precautions.
The beginning of April was cold and rainy. It had been raining for most of two weeks. Jarissa had not been able to hunt in this miserable weather, not since the middle of March. Compressing herself into civilized life for too long made her antsy, she knew that, her family knew that, her co-workers knew that; chat lightly, give the leopard woman space whenever possible.
No one could have noticed that Rissa was developing memories of interactions that never happened, simply because she wasn't talking much to anyone. Or talking where anyone could have heard her, for that matter.
Jarissa was out of her head, hallucinating events and people, but didn't realize it. On the second night after her husband and son departed on their trip, she thought someone tried to corner her and get handsy in the chaotic parking lot at
Alexei's Bar. She thought she had overreacted and killed the would-be groper. She though Officer
Triton had witnessed it, tried to arrest her, chased her, shot at her before she managed to lose him in the State Game Lands nearby.
She thought she returned to the
Gironde School, approached
Thomas's bedroom via the window-ledge route, confessed all and asked him what she should do. (She remembers being terrified: she had been avoiding him since last July, when he and Tina got engaged and grew away from Rissa and Blackjack. She remembers feeling so relieved when Thomas put an arm around her and said
of course Rissa fought back, because someone with a similar RV had tried to pick up some of the school's kids at the Mall just the day before, so this supposed "groper" was probably trying to kidnap her.)
Rissa thought Thomas packed a camping kit, and took her west to Tioga State Forest for a few nights of rest.
She thought that his mood slowly grew more exasperated as they found a campsite and set up a den. That they finally wound up yelling at each other over the difference between "safe from weather hazards" versus "safe from hostile approach". That she said something awful enough to drive Thomas away, and then she spent entirely too long feeling sorry for herself before she admitted that she needed to make everything right. Which, first, would involve hiking back out of the forest until she could use someone else's phone.
She thought that she lived through finding another camper's phone and trying to call him, only to snap out of it and realize she was still alone, over and over. By the time the sun was high in the sky, Rissa knew she was having delirium episodes, but she had no plan other than to keep walking until she found herself on the outskirts of Arnot or maybe Blossburg ... it should only take her two days ... she could. . . .
Rissa thought, when she somewhat came back to herself in an overgrown CCC camp, that she had snapped to awareness despite the intense pain because she heard a baby wail. She dragged herself up to a crouch only to find a tiny body, not moving, not responding as Rissa attempted to warm the baby up or encourage her to nurse.
This daughter was going to be named "Savannah".
When Jarissa was found (in a different forest entirely) by frantic family members, more than 12 hours after the miscarriage, she was still hallucinating - she had to be talked down enough to get medical treatment for blood loss, starvation, and exposure. Postmortem examination determined that the infant was stillborn, that the miscarriage was caused by the death of the fetus rather than the other way around, but Rissa still blames herself. She may not have grounds to believe that any of the rest of it happened -- but she vividly remembers the sound and smell of a bullet hitting tree bark as she ran past it, she vividly remembers Thomas's warm arm across her rain-soaked shoulders as he stroked her hair out of her face, she vividly remembers Savannah's newborn wail at the world.
Blackjack listened closely to Dr. McCoy's explanation of what must have happened to Jarissa starting the second evening that she spent alone in their apartment, when her hallucinations began -- when the miscarriage most likely began. He listened as McCoy patiently listed every point where someone might have tried to interfere, and why none of it would have saved the pregnancy no matter how perceptive the observer or excellent the care. He listened to Tafey Sinjin's careful translation of Savannah's autopsy -- how, at a certain point in fetal development, all growth had abruptly ceased. He listened to what they were not saying, how close Jarissa herself had come to death as her body fought to save what was already lost, and how they thought a plan should be made to detect a similar event in Rissa's next pregnancy.
Blackjack grieved with his wife. He helped her recover in every way possible. And he told her, gently, heartbrokenly, that he could not have survived if she had died with their child -- that they had their son, and they had each other, and that was more than enough for a happy lifetime. No more dangerous pregnancies.