“You’re sure it was Vee?” I pry, even though too much of Clay’s story lines up with what happened.

“Course. I never forget a face. Now, where’s Indie?” Again he searches behind me. “Vee said you took her to Zuly’s before the raid, but she didn’t know what happened after that.”

Meaning Ma never updated the rest of the pack after speaking to me in the fields. Maybe she wanted to spare them the pain, or maybe she was too ilked-up by the time she had a chance to talk with them. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t change the fact that Clay doesn’t know.

I’m not sure how to break it to him, so I just come out and say it. “Indie’s dead.”

“Good one!” He laughs.

“I’m serious, Clay. She didn’t make it.”

“Nah, that can’t be.” He stares, dumbfounded. “You took her to Zuly’s. She’s fine. ’Cus you got her help. She’s—”

“I’m sorry, Clay.”

“No.”

He says it a few more times, eyes pleading, hoping I’ll change my story, and when I don’t, I watch him come undone. The gasps, ragged. His eyes, wet. He sinks to his knees, and I feel like a scudding fool for ever teasing Indie about lying with him. It’s obvious that he cared about her. He’d passed through Dead River, hoping to be with her when the baby came. He made her happy, was so blessedly decent, and that should have been enough for me to be happy for both of them.

“The baby?” he manages.

“In Bedrock with the others. I named her Bay.”

He nods, still in a bit of a trance. “Whatever the General wants, you have to give it to him, Delta,” he says, glancing up at me. “You have to get her back.”

Fathers don’t always stick around in the wastes—I never knew mine—but if Clay was hoping to be with Indie during the birth, maybe he also intended to be a part of Bay’s life. A bittersweet sensation floods through me—relief that Bay won’t have to grow up parentless, apprehension at what this will mean as she grows older. Will she choose to live with him, traveling the wastes? Will she stay with me . . . wherever I end up settling? It’s hard to think that far ahead, but she’s also made it impossible for me not to. That child has her hooks in me.

“I’ll get her back,” I tell Clay firmly. “Just . . . give me a few weeks. A moon. Don’t tell the General we spoke, or Bay and the others will be at risk. Can you promise me that?”

Clay bites his lip, nods. “I’ll check in with you each time I pass through. Maybe soon you’ll have good news.”