370 The Unexpected Translator

The entire night was filled with surreal and fragmented dreams—none of them forming a coherent story.

In one of the dreams, Miranda cradled a chubby, smiling baby in her arms. Behind her stood a tall, gentle man, softly encircling her waist, quietly reminding her to watch her step. But when she turned to look at him, he vanished. All that remained was an endless field of wild grass, stretching as far as her eyes could see. No trace of the man, no one to turn to.

The baby in her arms disappeared too. Her once-full embrace was now empty, and she found herself running across the desolate field, desperately calling out—though she didn’t know what name to shout. Her child hadn’t been born yet, and she hadn’t even had the chance to name him.

When she awoke, the light outside was still dim. A glance at her phone showed it was already 7:30 PM Rome time. She had slept through the entire day, nearly twelve hours. Yet, it felt as though she had only napped for thirty minutes, likely due to the v