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OR, then suited up in a fresh paper gown, mask, cap, and gloves. She stuck a couple of extra masks in her scrubpocket, waited until the cop on door duty left for a bathroom break, then quickly slipped outside for the first time in days. A cold mist stung her eyes.
    “Maggie?” She fought the urge to run to her daughter. “Papa, you shouldn’t have brought my baby here.”
    “Wasn’t about to leave her home alone.”
    Maggie scooted behind Papa. “Stranger!” She clutched her Christmas doll with one hand and Papa’s legs with the other. “Stranger danger!”
    “Maggie, it’s me, Mommy.”
    Maggie peered around Papa’s leg. “Let me see your face.”
    A man with an umbrella hurried along the sidewalk, coughing as he passed their little huddle.
    “Hey, buddy, cover your mouth.” The man ignored Lisbeth’s direction and scurried inside the hospital without looking back. Lisbeth held out a mask to Maggie. “I can’t take my mask off, baby. In fact, you and G-Pa need to put these on.”
    “Why?” Maggie backed away, fear flashing in her saucer-wide eyes.
    “We’re playing a game.” Lisbeth hated lying, but the truth would rip the scab off the dark hole Maggie wasn’t ready for. “Hide-and-seek. Only with doctors’ masks.”
    “No.”
    “Look, Miss Magdalena. I’ve got mine on.” Papa danced around like a circus clown trying to coerce a smile, but his gyrations were getting nowhere. “Let me help you.” He quickly slipped the strap of the pleated paper over Maggie’s head.
    Her little limbs immediately tensed. “It’s too tight.” Maggie clawed at the mask and tried to wiggle free at the same time. “I can’t breathe.”
    “Loosen the metal clip across her nose, Papa.”
    “That’s the best I can do,” Papa said.
    Maggie took evasive action and squirmed out of Papa’s grasp. “I can’t.” She ripped off the mask. “I won’t.”
    “Baby, it’s just paper. Air can pass straight through. Watch.” Lisbeth demonstrated breathing in and out. “Want to try again, baby?”
    “No.” Maggie threw the mask on the ground. “I can’t.”
    “What if we get a mask for your baby doll, too?” Papa bent to retrieve the soiled mask.
    “Take her home, Papa.”
    “She’ll be fine. Give her a minute.” Papa put an arm around Maggie. “She’s got to learn to face her fears.”
    “Not today, she doesn’t.” Lisbeth waved them away. “Get her out of here!”
    “Okay. Calm down.” Papa scooped Maggie up and started for the parking lot. Then he stopped, turned around, and handed Lisbeth a thick manila envelope he’d pulled from beneath his coat. “Almost forgot why we came. You need to see this.”
    “Mail? You put my child at risk to bring me mail?” The Vatican Apostolic Library was stamped in the upper left-hand corner. “Your early-church research can wait until I get home.”
    “When’s that gonna happen?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Then no, this can’t wait.” Papa lifted Maggie’s hood over her head. “Promise you’ll read that as soon as you can.” He thumped the envelope in Lisbeth’s hand. “That paragraph I marked changes everything.”

6
    Carthage
    W INTER REFUSED TO GIVE way to spring. The sun hid behind clouds as heavy as Cyprian’s mood these long, dark days since his return from exile. Nothing was coming together like he planned.
    The boy he and Magdalena rescued from the herb shop had died within hours of their homecoming. Cyprian had wanted to bury the lad in the back corner of the garden, but before he could dig a proper grave, several of the others who lined the mats in his halls had died as well. His gardens, while exceptionally large for a city property, did not have the space needed for multiple graves. The best he could do for the deceased was to wait until nightfall, put a cloak over his head, drag them out of the neighborhood, and place their bodies upon the growing heaps in the slums.
    “You really should let Barek do that,” Ruth had said,