Epilogue
Three months later, I’m sleeping in Boyd’s bed when I go into labor in the middle of the night. Being two days past the baby’s due date, I knew what signs to watch for, but I wasn’t expecting my water to break while I was asleep.
It takes me a minute to fully wake up and absorb what’s happening. Another minute after I tap on Boyd’s shoulder and tell him what happened, the house comes alive.
Before I can even change my clothes, Atlas is standing by with his phone’s stopwatch at the ready, asking about contractions.
“I … don’t think I had any yet,” I tell him. “I was asleep.”
“Dr. Navarro said to let her know how far apart the contractions are,” he says.
I rub sleep from the edges of my eyes. “You called her?”
Atlas nods. “She’s ready to come when you’re ready. When the baby’s ready.”
After that, time moves in weird ways. Mild contractions start less than twenty minutes later, and at first, it seems like things are going to progress quickly, but then hours pass, with nothing much happening at all.
The contractions eventually get stronger and come closer together.
When the doctor arrives, I’m in my bedroom, which the men converted into a birthing room for the special event.
They purchased a big rubber birthing ball and put an extra mattress on the floor, so I’ll have plenty of options for comfortable labor positions.
There are tons of pillows, blankets, and towels, a floor fan and a handheld fan, heating pads, and massage tools. They lined my dresser with water bottles, electrolyte drinks, and snacks, and music is playing from a portable speaker.
Dr. Navarro, with her typical cool, takes it all in but doesn’t comment.
I’m not sure how much time passes after that, but I do know that one or more of my men are always close, ready to help me in any way I need.
When the time comes to push, Atlas kneels next to me, and I can’t imagine having a more calming, reassuring presence at my side. “Breathe with me,” he says, his voice low and even. “You’ve got this, and we’ve got you.”
Boyd’s at my other side, anchoring me through each contraction, making me stronger than I am. As he encourages me, his voice is thick with emotion that he doesn’t try to hide.
Silas assists the doctor in any way that she needs, takes pictures and videos, and occasionally squeezes my arm in silent support. Although he carries himself with unaffected calm, his expression is far from its usual default detachment.
There’s concern in his eyes, but they’re mostly filled with awe and wonder, especially when the baby makes her way into the world.
It’s rough going near the end, but absolutely worth it when I hear her cry, loud and clear.
I think all four of us exhale at the same time.
“She’s beautiful,” Boyd whispers, his eyes glassy.
Atlas looks stunned, a look I’ve never seen on his face. “She’s got a healthy set of lungs,” he says when he finds his words.
Silas is frozen in place, but he swallows hard. “She’s perfect.”
“Have a name picked out?” the doctor asks, as she lays my daughter on my chest.
I don’t even register the question at first. My entire world has narrowed to the impossibly tiny, incredibly precious human who’s now with me.
The idea of taking care of her, keeping her safe, and helping her grow suddenly seems overwhelming, but then my view widens, and I remember that she and I will have the best support possible, no matter what comes our way.
I spent a good bit of time researching names. I strongly considered giving the baby my mother’s name to honor her memory, but I don’t want her to live in anyone’s shadow. Regardless of her name, my mom will be watching over her, like she’s been watching over me.
“Her name is Felicity,” I announce. “It means happiness, especially happiness after hardship, and it means luck.” I look around at each of my men. “She and I are incredibly lucky that you found us, or she wouldn’t even be here today.”
There are lumps in each of their throats that may be bigger than little Felicity.
Boyd kisses my cheek, Atlas presses his lips to my forehead, and Silas wraps his fingers around my wrist. Dr. Navarro takes a picture of the five of us together, and I know it’s an image I’ll always treasure.
Felicity’s first days pass in a haze. If I’d been on my own, I’d have been starving, sleep-deprived, and dirty, but thanks to my men, I’m well fed, made to take naps, and even enjoy a couple of hot showers.
We all have a learning curve, but the men take excellent care of the baby.
Atlas starts with a grand plan for feeding schedules and sleep rotations, but quickly learns that newborns don’t adhere to a routine as well as soldiers.
As he swaddles her one evening, I overhear him cooing to her, “It’s okay, little Lissy.
I can work with your lack of discipline.
” When he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, the same way he does to me, I melt.
Boyd seems to have feeding schedules for me, because he frequently offers me water and food. When I voice a concern that Lissy isn’t getting enough milk while nursing, he finds a recipe for lactation cookies and immediately bakes a batch.
The cradle Boyd made for Felicity has a place of honor in the living room. When he presented it to me a couple of weeks before she was born, I was stunned. He’d been sneaking off to his workshop, where he created a solid and beautiful piece of furniture that was undeniably made with love.
Boyd calls Lissy our snow princess, and I can’t wait to see the two of them playing in the snow together when she’s old enough.
Silas is the most fun to watch with the baby. The first time he changes her diaper, he’s clearly in over his head, but he presses on with intense concentration, his jaw clenched like he’s defusing a bomb. When he finally manages it, he looks very pleased with himself.
I often find him taking Felicity on tours around the compound. He holds her close and talks in a low voice, telling her little details about the house, the ops center, the mountains, and the animals that live in the woods.
I won’t be surprised if he’s the one who gets her first real smile out of her.
I’ve been smiling a lot myself, especially since Preston is no longer a shadow in our lives. He’s locked away, as he deserves. His name is tied up in indictments, and his public voice is now reduced to transcripts and sealed filings.
I gave my official statements, relieved to put the truth on record. Investigations are still unfolding, but for now, my part is done, and the danger that once hung over me has cleared.
A few weeks after Felicity’s birth, a gift arrives from Brianna. It’s a trio of pretty outfits, a snuggly toy, and a note saying she hopes to visit soon and meet Felicity in person.
I’ve seen Brianna twice since I came out of hiding.
Our first get-together was spent with me explaining the hows and whys of everything that happened, and apologizing for taking her car.
She said she was glad I was able to use it to get away.
She’d been terrified for me and was just happy I was alive.
Even though she shrugged off the car situation, my men insisted on replacing it, because that’s who they are.
My second visit with Brianna was more relaxed and a lot like old times. Even though we live a few hours apart now, I hope to have more fun times with her in the future, and hopefully introduce her to Elena, who’s visited me at the compound several times.
One snowy afternoon, when Lissy is nearly two months old, I’m meandering around the great room in the gentle bouncy way I now walk when I’m aiming to soothe her. She’s resting against my chest, her head nestled in my shoulder. I’m breathing in her sweet baby scent, and it’s heaven.
Boyd is in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on a cream of potato soup that also smells wonderful.
Atlas and Silas went into town to run errands, and they’ve just pulled in, right on time for dinner. They come in through the mudroom, Atlas holding out a plain manila envelope. “Mail for you.” He kisses me, then Lissy, then he takes her so I can open the letter.
I was already notified about the contents, but I wouldn’t let myself fully believe it until I held the proof in my hands. After a few phone calls, some paperwork, and six weeks of waiting, I’m now Felicity’s only legal guardian. Preston fully surrendered his parental rights without a fight.
I hold the signed document high as I let out a long breath. “It’s official. I’m a single mom.”
I expect the men to celebrate with me, but my lighthearted choice of wording doesn’t go over well.
Boyd leans across the counter as a rumbly noise comes from his throat that sounds a lot like a growl.
Atlas lifts a brow as he comes over to give the document a once-over. A hint of a smile lifts his mouth when he looks at it, but then he turns his focus to me. “There’s nothing single about you, Kira.”
“Definitely not.” Silas gives me a look, the kind that triggers a fuzzy feeling low in my belly. Then he switches up his features entirely to coo a sweet greeting to Lissy.
“Not as long as we’re around,” Boyd says. “And we intend to always be around. For both of you.”
“Good,” I tell him. “That’s exactly how I want it.”
I go around the counter to give Boyd a kiss and stop him from frowning. When I turn, Silas and Atlas are there, too, along with Lissy.
Arms come around me, several of them, and I’m wrapped into a group hug that nearly makes my heart swell out of my chest.
I’m safe, and loved, and so is my daughter.
The family we’ve built is unconventional, but fierce and deeply devoted.
The future is no longer something to survive.
It’s something to savor. To grow into.
To fill with love.
Later in the year, I come to realize the men had been going easy on me in the bedroom (and the workshop, and the armory) when I was pregnant.