We travel in silence the entire morning, picking our way through the brambles and over fallen branches. Finally, Jed stops walking and I do the same. The others continue down the path, curving away from us until we can no longer see them and we are alone. He seems anxious, jittery. He keeps shifting from one foot to the other as if he can't get comfortable.

Finally he speaks, his voice low. “Mary, I…” He hesitates and I watch as the muscles along his jaw twitch. Tears begin to spill down his cheeks, his face crumbling. “I don't know what to do,” he says.

I have never seen my brother cry and my heart begins to race. I step forward to comfort him but he holds up a hand, keeping me at bay.

“What is it, Jed?” I ask. “What's wrong?”

He turns toward the fence at his side, shakes his head.

“Jed?” I prod.

“She's infected, Beth is…” He chokes on his words. He scrapes a hand over his face as if it's the only thing holding his body together.

I stumble back, away from him. All this time she has been among us. All this time and he hasn't told us.

“You must kill her!” I say before I can think better of it. I am about to apologize when he falls to his knees in front of me. He grasps at my shirt, begging, and I am too stunned to speak.

“You don't understand,” he says. “You don't know. It's a small bite. It's nothing. Maybe she isn't sick … maybe …” His voice trails off.

I crouch down in front of him so that we're face to face. “Jed,” I say, trying to make my voice soft and soothing. “You are a Guardian. You know what a bite means. You know what infection means.”

He nods but I don't think my words have truly penetrated.

I take a deep breath. “You know there is no hope.”

“I cannot kill my wife,” he pleads with a hoarse voice, helpless, falling back on his heels. He beats at the ground and roars in anguish, causing the downed Unconsecrated nearby to rise, sensing our presence. I hear the moans as they begin the process of scenting us out. The first one hits the fence, not two arm's lengths away, and then another and another.

I listen to them rattle around us and then I say, “You can always let her go. You can turn her loose into the Forest.”