"What do you think of that idea, Judge?" I cock my head to the side, studying him carefully.

"Hmm?" He shifts, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Mercedes having ten little monsters," I answer. "Will you be their godfather?"

At this, Mercedes looks up at him, a strange undercurrent of tension in her own features. "Yes, Judge. What do you think of that?"

"She can do what she likes," he answers tightly. "Once she's proven herself capable."

Mercedes appears to be hurt by his remark, and I realize I probably shouldn't have goaded him when Ivy nudges me in the side.

"A conversation for another time," I tell him, narrowing my eyes.

He nods in understanding, and Mercedes hands the baby back to Ivy. "Thank you for letting me meet her. I suppose we should probably get going now."

"Yes," I agree. "We'll meet you outside once we've said goodbye to Elena."

Mercedes and Judge walk out the front door, and Antonia meets us in the foyer, offering us her most reassuring smile as Ivy and I glance at each other and back at our daughter. It's our first time having to leave her, and neither one of us wants to do it. But The Tribunal is no place for a baby, and especially not today.

"I will take care of her as if she were my own," Antonia promises. "She will be in good hands."

“And I’ll be here to help,” Eva calls out, appearing from the corridor and walking to Antonia’s side to join her. “We’ll be the babysitting dream team. Don’t you worry.”

Ivy and I both laugh and then reluctantly place Elena into Antonia’s arms.

"Thank you both, in that case."

We say our goodbyes, Ivy teary-eyed, and then walk out the door.

43

Ivy

I am so anxious I’m shivering with it. Santiago takes off his jacket and puts it over my shoulders. He leans in, squeezing my hand, his expression closed off, body tense. He’s anxious too.

“It will be okay.”

It won’t. Not really. But it will be what it has to be. This part of the trial is only a formality. Abel’s fate has already been decided. Today, we will learn if his death will be a peaceful one or not. And for all he’s done, for all the hurt he’s caused, for all he’s stolen, for the lives he’s had a hand in ending and the damage to our families and countless others, I don’t want this for him. I don’t.

The trio of Councilors are seated in their place above all of us, dark robes on, hoods up, faces in shadow. Three grim reapers. Jackson is across the courtroom in formal attire.