“Judging on how strong the heartbeat is and how much the baby’s kicking, I think it's more like you’re eight months along,” I tell Lucinda as I take off the gloves I was grateful to find in one of the filing cabinets.

Lucinda’s eyes widen, and she rubs both hands over her distended belly. “If you’re right, I could be having this baby any day.”

“Exactly. So you’ll need to take it easy and get as much rest as you can. No more offering to clean out whole trailers,” I tell her with a chastising smile. “Do you have support in place for after the baby comes?”

Lucinda nods. “Meemaw and some of the old ladies promised to come over and help out. They’re all pissed at Crazytown for shutting me out.”

I nod approvingly. I don’t love having an entire trailer town up in my business. But a close-knit community like this will undoubtedly come in handy for a single mom.

“Can you tell me where the closest hospital is? I’d like to speak to a doctor over there just in case we need to take you in.”

Lucinda frets her lip.

“I know lack of insurance might make that too expensive for you,” I tell her. “But there are programs that can help keep down delivery costs. If you give me your phone and let me call over there, I could probably figure out how to arrange a costless prenatal exam for you.”

“No, I have insurance,” Lucinda says. “Waylon got it for all of us when he started this town. We’re all on the payroll and making a living wage, too. It's nothing like before when it was just the compound or where I’m from in Columbia. It’s kind of like….what is that word for dream place? It starts with a U?”

“Utopia?” I guess.

Lucinda snaps at me. “Exactly, it is a utopia, except the only people allowed to come in are the ones Waylon chooses.”

“Then why was he so anti-hospital back in Delaware?” I ask.

Lucinda shrugs. “It is a utopia, but the Reapers are still criminals. I am thinking none of them would be willing to show up at a hospital with a gunshot wound.”

Fair enough. Another thought occurs to me. “Are you saying that I’ll get paid a living wage too if I agree to be the town’s nurse practitioner for a while?”

Lucinda shakes her head and looks honestly confused as she answers, “You’re Waylon's woman. Why do you need to get paid? Your money’s no good in this town. And if you can’t get something here, you can just ask him.”

I grit my teeth. “I'm not his woman.”

Lucinda looks to the side. “Are you sure about that? Waylon’s doing a lot for you, and he wouldn’t be doing so much if you weren’t his woman.”