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So I look at the child. At her little tiny fist, dark hair–McBride blood.

“What did you name her?”

“Eleanor.”

The baby opens her eyes and Mercy smiles. Everything in her changes when she looks at her.

“She isn’t going to belong to this place.”

“Neither do you.”

Her smile fades. “We both know that’s not true.”

“No?” I question.

“Ezra.”

“I’ll get you both out.”

“You can’t and you know it.” She says.

“But I can.”

“The boundary…”

“Doesn’t exist yet.”

She turns toward me with a confused expression. Not understanding the words. Not then.

I do now. She knew too.

Fuck.

She knew what they were planning.

“How?”

“My mother told me,” she says with unshed tears filling her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because you would do exactly what you’re doing now.”

“What?”

“Try to save me.”

“Of course I fucking would.”

“And get yourself killed.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do.” She says, stunning me into silence then places the baby in my arms.

My hands shake.

“Take her.”