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A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “So independent.”

“I’m just making you a priority.” I take his hand. “Tell me.”

“The guys and I,” he starts, and I feel the tremor in his hand, “we’ve been trying to give you space—room to make decisions about the future.”

“The future? What does that mean?”

He inhales sharply. “We’ve never really talked about it since leaving. Back there everything was set in stone. You belonged to me. It was determined. But out here, those rules don’t apply.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” I move my hand to his chest where his heart pounds erratically. “I’ll always belong to you. I love you.”

He exhales, a little of the tension easing. “Is that all you want? Just me or…” he swallows, “because I know it’s not traditional and the guys are prepared. We’re all prepared to do what you want. And everyone has just been following your lead.”

At night we sleep together, taking turns in the king-sized bed. Tonight, it had been Silas and Rex. Before that, Elon and Levi. Night after night I get to spend it with the men I love. We cook together, watch stupid television shows, shop and explore the city with new eyes. They explain this world to me, help me understand it. They’re healing me, one moment at a time.

“We’re hanging by a thread here, Little Lamb,” he says, breaking into my thoughts. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I couldn’t give any of you up for the world,” I say, tears pricking at my eyes. “The four of you are the only good things I brought out of Serendee. I want you. All of you.”

He moves suddenly, eyes lit with emotion. His hand traces my jaw, and he whispers, “I love you,” against my lips, before his mouth claims mine. A slow burn spreads through me, like the glow of daylight, despite the dark surrounding us. Rex is my sun. Elon, Levi and Silas are the rays that keep me alive. “I’ll tell them when we get home. I should have been clearer. I took you for granted.”

“Never,” he says, hand clasping my face and kissing me one last time. His forehead presses against mine. “I guess we should go inside.”

He exits the car and walks around to open it for me, hand clasping mine. One thing is for certain; whatever is waiting for us inside, it seems easier knowing that we’ll handle it together.

On a wing filled with soft mauve décor and teddy bears on the wall, a guard waits outside the hospital room door, a stark reminder of who we’re here to visit. There hasn’t been a trial yet—Anex, Margaret, and Erik are all in jail awaiting hearings. Jasmine and Robert, with the strength of their family connections, personal finances, and denials of involvement of the more serious charges, were able to get bail.

“Spread your legs,” the guard says, insisting on patting us down. I went first, but her hands seem to linger on Rex’s large frame. “She’s still on security measures,” the square shaped woman with blunt bangs says. “You’re to keep your distance at all times. Do not offer or accept anything. There are cameras.” Her hands pat Rex’s butt and he frowns, eyes narrowed. “Understand?”

“Has she already had the baby?” I ask.

The guard nods, actually giving me a glimmer of a smile, and opens the door. The room is small, but Margaret looks tiny in the oversized hospital bed. Her left wrist is attached to the rail by a chain and handcuff. Her right arm holds a bundle—a blanket rolled up so tight that all I can see is a little, squished, pink face in the crook of her arm.

A flood of emotion rushes through me. I’d always assumed I’d be there for the birth of Margaret’s baby—assist actually. I feel a strange sense of loss at not being here, but also understand that I have no right. Margret looks tired. Deep purple shadows hang under her eyes. Her cheeks are gaunt and her hair stringy. I’m not sure if it’s from the delivery or from life in detention. Could be both.

“Are you okay?” I ask, eyes shifting to the bundle. “Is the baby okay?”

“As good as a woman can be after pushing a nine pounder out of my vagina.” Margaret works to sit up a little, wincing from what I assume is pain. “But the birth was beautiful. Not what I wanted, obviously, but still.”

“It’s a…” Rex starts, peering at the baby and taking in the pink hat, “a girl?”

“Meet your baby sister.” She lifts her arm, offering the baby to Rex. “Go on, take her.”

Rex shakes his head, eyes glazing over. Shock? I step in, bend, taking the tiny newborn from Margaret. She’s so lightweight and fragile, yet firm and compact. Her mother watches me closely as I settle her into my elbow. “She’s beautiful.” I peer at her face at those blue eyes. I look at Rex. “She has your eyes.”

“What do you want, Margaret?” He asks, visibly distressed. “Why have us come down here because if you think that you can—"

“Do you remember the story I told you about meeting your father?” she asks, cutting him off.

“Yes. At a café in town. You were a student, and he wooed you with his intelligence to come down to the Center for classes.”

Her lips quirk. “Well, that was a lie.”

Rex stiffens next to me, snapping out of his fog. “Then what’s the truth?”

“I met your father when I was fourteen. I was working at my father’s restaurant and Serendee was one of his suppliers. Back then Anex used to make the deliveries himself. He’d show up in that old red truck, the back filled with crates of organic vegetables. He was handsome as sin. All blue eyes and a smile that made you feel like you were the only person in the world.” Rex shifts next to me, and I reach out, taking his hand. “He’d drop off the food, come in for a meal. I’d serve him and we’d talk.” She laughs. “Well,he’dtalk.”

“Ow.” She hisses, and the movement from laughing makes her wrap her free arm over her belly, wincing. “Sorry. They said to be careful about that.” She takes a slow, settling, breath. “Anyway, his visits lasted for years. Sometimes he’d take me around in his truck, making deliveries to all the other markets and restaurants on his route. He told me all about you—” she looks at Rex, “and your mother who had died. He said he liked having the company of someone who didn’t know his trauma or past.”