In the corner of the room, Lionel and Cesar are hiding their supplies, bagging them up in a single, leather satchel. Everything, including the bloodied rags they’d used to clean both her and her daughter goes into hiding, as they must, given they’re going to be fleeing the castle in a matter of minutes.
Anais doesn’t want to think about that, though. For just a few moments, she wants to pretend she’s going to get to spend her next days at Mattel’s side, that she’s going to get to raise this baby with him with any degree of certainty, and she can’t do that if she thinks of their doctors already preparing to make a hasty departure.
“She’s so tiny,” Anais whispers, sniffling as her newborn takes hold of her finger. “I love her so much.”
“I do too,” Mattel assures her, bending down to press
