The baby died. A tiny little cot with papery white sheets went cold and still in an antiseptic hospital universe. Like a far away, silvery little star going out, sparkling fairy dust fading to black, nobody noticed much. The world kept rushing, the hospital kept clanging and buzzing, the nurse folded the papery blankets and disposed of it as per hospital protocol. No one had expected the baby to live, a premature birth, raisin fingers, gunk in its throat and lungs and blooming purple bruises across its forehead and chest.