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Maybe they wouldn’t have to live in hiding forever. Maybe eventually they’d burst forth back into the world.

The child had meant hope. It had been a symbol.

And now? That was all in jeopardy.

Cynthia had combed through the midwifery book by candlelight.

There were many things that could have been wrong with the pregnancy and the baby.

And Cynthia didn’t have the power to do anything about them. Not one of them.

She had no training as a midwife, and the book didn’t go into enough detail. It wasn’t that sort of book.

And, anyway, when it came to serious pregnancy complications, the book pretty much just advised that the midwife take the pregnant woman to the hospital as soon as possible.

What good was that to Mandy and Cynthia? None.

So there was really nothing to do but try to help with the pain. Be there for her. Hold her hand.

Those kinds of things. Useless, really.

Cynthia preferred things that worked. Things like penicillin, which could arrest an infection before it got serious. The results were clear-cut.

She needed something like that now. But she knew that it wasn’t going to happen.

Mandy’s noises of pain had gotten so bad that Cynthia had figured that at best, Mandy was going to lose the baby.

At worst, they were going to lose both Mandy and the baby.

And Cynthia was going to have to watch it all happen.

Cynthia didn’t know if she could bear to do it.

But who else was there?

She couldn’t leave Mandy there on her own. That’d be cruel.

The kids couldn’t handle it.

“How are you feeling?” said Cynthia, in her gentlest tones. She placed her hand lightly on Mandy’s shoulder.

Mandy hadn’t been asleep, but she’d been in some kind of dazed state.

She stirred a little now, moving her body somewhat restlessly, acting as if she had been asleep.

“Better,” said Mandy, but her voice sounded weak.

But she wasn’t grunting in pain. She wasn’t panting laboriously.

“Everything feel all right?”

Mandy shrugged. “I guess so,” she said.

“You seem like you’re feeling a lot better actually. No more pain?”

“Not really,” said Mandy. “I just feel exhausted. Depleted, I guess.”

“Hmmm.”

“Did you find anything that book? Anything that it might be?”

“A few things caught my attention, but…” Cynthia didn’t quite know what to say. It was hard to find a delicate way to say that there was nothing they’d be able to do for any of those problems.

Mandy nodded, though, as if she already understood.

“I was worried about getting pregnant in the first place,” she said. “It seemed crazy to want to bring up a child in this world.”

“Life has to go on,” said Cynthia. “Just because we don’t have electricity, and the government had fallen away…”

“Yeah, that’s what Max and I decided. Things have to keep on going. You can’t just pause life because…” Her voice sort of faded away.

It was one of those types of discussions, where they each started to say something that sounded like it would be dramatic and important, but then didn’t quite know how to finish the sentence.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

Mandy had her eyes fully open now. Her face looked like it had been through the wringer, with dried sweat, and, it seemed, even some new lines. Lines from dealing with the pain. Lines from the stress of the whole thing.

“Maybe I’m going to be OK,” said Mandy, sounding as if she was nervous to even suggest the possibility. “I really don’t feel that bad… Is there anything in the book about some condition that can come and go this suddenly?”

“Maybe. I’ll have to look back through it…”

“Here, give it to me.”

“You’re feeling that much better?”

“Yeah. Good enough to read. Maybe not good enough to take a watch shift, or chop firewood.”

“Here you go.”

Cynthia handed the book to Mandy.

Mandy took it and began flipping through it.

“I guess we don’t know if it’ll stay gone, or if it’ll come back. The pain, I mean. And the other symptoms.”

“No,” said Cynthia. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

And that was the truth. There wasn’t anything they could do but wait and see.

Hopefully, Mandy and the baby would be all right.

Hopefully, nothing would happen.

How terrible would it be if Max returned, and there’d been some horrible problem with the pregnancy?

Or if Max didn’t return at all? And his sacrifice had been completely in vain?

It all seemed too terrible, and Cynthia buried her face in her hands.

20

SADIE

Sadie needed to get out of there.

She didn’t know how long she’d been lying there now, with the stench of the paint all around her, all over. She’d just been waiting for the woman to come back.

And when she came back, what then?

Would Sadie die? Would the woman decide it was easier to kill her?

Or would the woman have news of a ransom note that she’d somehow delivered to her mother?

Sadie couldn’t see her mother taking the news well. But no doubt she’d come and rescue her.

But if her mother could have talked to her now, what would she have said?

She’d have told her to fight. She’d have told her not to rely on others for help. She’d have told Sadie to not count on anyone to come rescue her, not even her own mother.

She’d have told Sadie that it was up to her, and her alone. That she had to do it all herself. That she needed to be strong and courageous and clever.

But what was she supposed to do? She was tied up. Completely. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even feel her limbs.

What were the chances of different outcomes? What were the chances that Olivia would come back and kill Sadie?

Probably not great. How did she figure that? Well, it’d have to be based on revenge. And revenge only.

Why revenge only? Because she didn’t seem like the kind of woman who had killed before. She had relied on her husband to do the dirty work for her. So even if she wasn’t going to play the ransom game and try to use Sadie as a pawn in her survival game, she likely didn’t have the courage to actually kill Sadie.

No, she wasn’t the courageous type. Not like Sadie. Or her mother. Or Max.

Olivia was the type of woman who, if it served her purposes, would just let Sadie rot on her own. She’d let Sadie die of dehydration there in that stupid torturous little room.

Sadie wasn’t going to let that happen.

She had to figure out something.

But what?

The situation seemed hopeless. She had nothing on her. She could barely move now.

She had no tools. Nothing to cut the rope with. No way to even move well enough if she did have a tool.

Sadie took a couple deep breaths. She was starting to panic. The situation was starting to seem even worse than hopeless. Her very thoughts were starting to feel completely pointless.

The breathing helped.

Helped keep her from panicking.

Panicking wasn’t going to do her any good.

But neither was just lying there.

Her mind was racing. Trying to think of everything that Max and her mother had ever told her.

It was hard to remember everything. She’d told her a lot. They’d taught her a lot.

She remembered that Max had told her that even when it seemed like there were no options, when it seemed like there were no routes out, there was always something to fall back on. And that was the mind.