No use speculating on what might have been. They had business to take care of now. There was no turning back. Ruby and the Midwives had to be dealt with, no matter what might happen to the two of them. Still, he wasn't sure he had the strength to go through with it. Despite her appearance of frailty, he was just as frightened of Ruby now as he'd ever been as a boy—more so, now that he knew what she was, and what she was truly capable of.

It was time to put an end to all the hurt and confusion and terror of the past. Ruby Savage would make amends for everything she'd done, or suffer the consequences.

He started up the path. Sheila took his cue, walking a few paces behind him.

As they drew near, Norma appeared in the kitchen window. She looked harried, moving around busily in her apron, likely making breakfast. Smoke or steam rose from the sink or the stovetop.

"We have to get Aunt Norma out of there," Sheila said.

"We'll figure something out. Signal her somehow, without getting Ruby's hackles up. It's not like they'll be able to hear us from outside."

Sheila nodded.

He opened the door.

The smell of frying bacon made his mouth water. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until just now. He'd just about kill for one of Norma's bacon and egg sandwiches, the bread fried in bacon fat, runny eggs with crispy edges and two slices of American cheese oozing down the crust.

Maybe Barclay would afford them the mercy of a last meal.

Sheila followed him into the kitchen, both of them moving cautiously, peering into empty rooms and darkened corners—as much for Barclay as Ruby.

Norma stood hunched over the sink when they entered, scouring something. She looked up and jumped at the sight of them. The pot clattered in the basin.

"Oh! You scared the bejesus out of me!" She looked them over. "What the H-E-double-hockey-sticks have you two been up to? We've been worried sick!"

"Is Ma upstairs?"

It felt off calling Ruby "Ma" with all they knew. But anything else would raise Norma's hackles. Better to keep up the pretense, for all of their sakes.

Though, considering what Barclay had in mind, maybe not for Ruby's.

"She's upstairs, dead to the world."

Norma stepped away from the sink. Martin took her by the shoulders and tried to guide her into a chair, away from the front window, out of sight from Clarabelle's rifle.

"Have a seat, you look tired."

Norma scowled at him. Her tears came suddenly, as if she'd been trying to hold them back. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her cry. Might have been the day they took Ruby away. It made him sad just to see it.

"Hey," he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I just wish I'd done better by you is all," she said.