The filly lay in the straw like a folded shadow, too quiet for the room. No one cheered. Dr. Okafor cleared her airway and rubbed hard with a towel. “Come on,” he said. Daphne dropped beside the foal without being told. The filly’s chest did not rise. Daphne felt the air leave the room, and even the rain seemed quieter than it had before.
Dr. Okafor gave oxygen, rubbed again, and checked her tiny mouth. Daphne heard Willow breathing behind her and the colt shifting under his towels. Three lives filled the stall where she had expected one birth. “Please,” Daphne whispered. Dr. Okafor leaned closer. One ear flicked. Then the filly took a shallow breath, and Daphne let out a broken sob.
“Don’t relax yet,” Dr. Okafor said. He checked the filly’s heart, then turned to Willow. The mare was standing, but barely. Her eyes looked dull with exhaustion. “Hospital?” Daphne asked. “All of them,” he confirmed. Twin foals could fade quickly. Willow still needed fluids, medicine, and checks for retained placenta, infection, shock, and laminitis. Outside, the trailer ramp dropped with a metallic thud. Dr. Okafor looked at the tiny filly. “Now we see who can keep going.”