I shake my head, and tears gather in her eyes. I feel a brief jolt of relief; at least she’s hydrated enough to cry.

“The baby?”

“A girl. I’ve been calling her Bay. The General has her somewhere. A guard mentioned a nursery when I was brought in.”

“How’d you find us?”

“I was traveling to Powder Town to ask after you. Got caught along the way.” I can’t bring myself to say Asher was involved. Mentioning that he’s alive will only prompt her to ask questions, and I have too many of my own that need to be answered first. “They tried to sell me in the Barrel, but a gunner saw the brand, brought me to the General.”

I expect her eyes to widen at this, expect fear to lace her features, but she barely even blinks. Her gaze has skirted back to the peas she’s been gathering, her basket nearly full. She kneels and begins harvesting again. I drop beside her.

“What happened, Ma? Old Fang mentioned an attack. Why did they attack?”

She pinches off another pod, tosses it into the basket. Scoots to the side, gathers more.

“The General said he gave you a choice. But you didn’t choose this, right? There’s no way you chose this.”

“We did.” She glances up at me, a calmness about her expression. She was sad when I told her about Indie, but not about this. “It was die with Old Fang or relocate. It’s not terrible, though, Delta, truly. Look at this place.” She nods toward the waterfall, the crop fields. “If we work the land, we get a share of the resources. We have shelter, small homes not unlike Dead River, but at least the land’s not dying here. The traders have kept this place secret from us. They’ve never wanted us to know, because if we did, we’d move, and then where would their business go?”

“Maybe they didn’t know Bedrock was here. No one ventures beyond Burning Ground. And even if they did know, maybe there’s a reason they didn’t tell us. Maybe this place isn’t the haven the General pretends it is. Maybe there’s a reason traders like Flint and Clay choose the wastes over Bedrock.”

She goes on plucking pods from the bush.

“Can you at least look at me when we talk? Ma!” I shake her, forcing her to turn. Her eyes seem distant, lost. “You can’t really want to stay here, working every hour of the day.”

“I worked every hour of the day at Dead River. Only difference now is I do it for a decent payoff.”

“No. You do it because someone has forced you to, ordered you to.”