Kill me, somebody. I never knew what to do or what to say. I got a soft towel from the bathroom and brought it to her. Desandra’s shoulders shook. She sobbed quietly. At the entrance Derek was doing his best to fade into the woodwork.

I sat next to her on the bed. She cried in a thin, heart-wrenching voice, her sobs leaking complete despair, as if her world were ending. Her father was an abusive asshole who used her as a bargaining chip. The two men she had married didn’t love her or her children. Right now only we truly cared about her welfare, and we did so because we would be paid with panacea at the end. I wished I could say something or do something to make her feel better.

Gradually the sobs slowed down. She pulled away from me and pressed the towel to her face.

“I feel so alone,” she said quietly. “I just want one of them to care. But they don’t.”

“They probably don’t,” I told her.

Her makeup had run and dark streaks of smudged eyeliner stained her cheeks. She wiped her face with the towel. “And I won’t have a choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“When the babies are born, what will happen? Are they going to force me to go with whoever’s son is born first? Are they going to take my children from me and throw me back to my father, so he can tell me every day how I cost him the pass and what a worthless waste I am?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

She looked at me and whispered, “I’m afraid to love my own babies, because I won’t get to keep them.”

Oh God.

Thinking of being paid for all this misery churned my stomach. If it had been up to me, I would have said screw it. I’d take her out of here, away from all of them, whether I got my fee or not. But it wasn’t about me. It was about Maddie lying twisted in a glass coffin while her family prayed we would make it back safe. It was about Andrea’s future babies. And about mine.

“Someone’s coming,” Derek said.

I rose from the bed and moved to the door. Raphael and Andrea rounded the corner.

“What are you doing here?”

“We heard crying,” Raphael said.

“Fuck me,” Desandra said from the bed. “Can’t a woman cry in peace?”

“Not with these acoustics.” Andrea came into the room and showed us a plate of fruit. “I got snacks.”

Derek looked at the platter with that particular longing, the way a starving dog eyes a juicy steak.

“Are you staying for a bit?” I asked Andrea.

“You bet.”

I glanced at Derek. “Why don’t you go and grab a bite to eat? We don’t know when Curran will be back.”