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There’s an awkward silence as we all release matching worried sighs. Noah and I shift on our feet. Once again, I have the urge to run away, screaming.
“Well!” Elizabeth’s bright voice breaks through my thoughts. “We’ll let you two get settled in for the night. I think you can stay with us tonight, but in Crescent Rock, we’ll get you your own house. There’s a very charming little place…”
Elizabeth rattles on some more, but I stop listening as I lean into Noah’s warmth. His spicy scent, his heartbeat, and the air moving through his lungs—I feel it all moving around me and within me, as my mark throbs pleasantly.
This won’t be easy, I realize. But with him at my side, it doesn’t feel scary at all.
In fact, my worry fades away completely the more I absorb him. Closing my eyes and leaning into him, neither of us says anything. We don’t need to.
I don’t know what Crescent Rock will be like, but I know I won’t be trapped. Not by the Order, the fence, or anything else.
Because for the first time ever, I have everything I want from life.
Noah and freedom.
Epilogue
Noah
One Year Later
“It’s so hot!” I yell, pacing the narrow hallway and running my hands through my hair. “How is she supposed to have a baby when it’s so hot?”
Elizabeth stands in front of the stairs, looking at me like I’ve gone insane, which maybe I have. “She’ll be fine, Noah. Your mother and I have this well in hand.”
“I don’t see how you could have prepared for the heat,” I insist, irritated. Sweat trickles down my forehead, and my back is damp under my T-shirt. “I think I should be in there. I can fan her or something.”
Elizabeth’s face transforms with horror, but before she can respond, my mother sticks her head out the bedroom door. She glares at me angrily before shifting her ire to Elizabeth.
“Can you get him out of here, please?” she hisses. “Henrietta needs peace. Not to mention, Joanna and I can barely hear ourselves think over all this racket.”
“No. I should be—”
But Elizabeth doesn’t let me finish. Nodding quickly, she yanks on my shirt sleeve, pulling me forward and down the stairs. She doesn’t stop moving until I’m stumbling on the broken asphalt outside the tall rowhouse.
I squint my eyes against the bright morning sun shining behind Crescent Rock’s namesake—the giant crescent moon-shaped rock that hangs over the town. When my eyes adjust, I see a few familiar faces—Ed, Rose, and Pike—standing on the Mercantile steps with their hands on their hips, watching me knowingly.
I turn toward Elizabeth as she backs into the house, pulling the door closed with her face fixed in a serene smile.
“We’ll let you know when the baby is here,” she says. “Just … stay out here.”
With that, she slams the door in my face.
Growling, I sink down to my haunches, weaving my hands into my sweaty hair. Worry beats a steady rhythm through my body, but it’s not an unfamiliar feeling. I’ve been scared for months—terrified, in fact, that Hetty wouldn’t survive this.
She’s been on bed rest for the past three months. By her sixth month, the baby and her belly had grown so big that she could barely balance on her own two feet anymore, let alone walk from one point to the other.
Every night, I lie awake, watching her sleep, listening to the gentle hums of her breath, and sometimes resting my hand on her breast to feel her heart’s steady beat.
A couple nights ago, she caught me and told me in no uncertain terms that it was weird behavior and I should stop immediately.
“Everything will be fine, Noah,” she insisted. “There’s no reason to worry.”
“There are plenty of reasons to worry,” I argued. Had she forgotten about everything that had been drilled into our heads? Hetty’s so tiny—too small to survive birthing my giant spawn.
But she dismissed me, rolling her eyes. “I’ve always said I’m not afraid of death, and that hasn’t changed. Just make sure the baby makes it. Don’t worry about me.”
I snapped then. “This is not the time for your death obsession, Hetty.”
