Joe wandered the fields behind the cabin, ignoring the state of them. They'd never been the most productive crops way back when his granddaddy worked the farm, and it seemed to be mimicking his memories. It was eternally summertime here, just like he liked it.

But the farm wasn't his concern now. He made his way to the forest on the far edge of the property, off in the opposite direction from the lake. Once he felt the air grow cool in the shade of the trees, he knew he'd gone far enough.

"We had an arrangement," he said quietly. It came out like a growl.

"I am not the one changing his mind, my friend."

Joe whipped around to see Papa Legba standing in the shadows. "She is in agony! You swore she wouldn't be sick or in pain."

"No, that was your description. Our deal was for you to be with her for all eternity, exactly like you want her. I have provided her. The way she is…that is up to you."

"I did not sell my soul to you for her to lose her memory every day, and now be miserable from her pain!" Joe shouted.

Papa smiled, his red eyes glinting in the sunlight that poked through the leaves of the forest above them. "Ah yes. That reminds me, Axeman, I am in need of your services."

Joe frowned. "What do you need?"

"Take down a…problem."

"Will it take long? I don't wanna leave Fiona alone when she's in pain. I've been gone long enough already."

"I don't give a monkey's shit about how long you are gone. You will come with me now and do what I tell you!" With that, Papa blew black powder from his hand into Joes' face. The smoke cleared and they were gone.

Back in the cabin, Fiona restlessly rolled over, trying desperately to find some kind of comfortable position. She didn't want to think about Joe anymore. That Axeman had taken up too much of her attention. Right now, she wanted nothing to do with him. He wanted to leave, that was just fine. Him and every other man who had ever claimed to love her. No one ever truly stayed.

She realized that only one person had ever really been unconditional with her. Despite the torment and abuse they had heaped upon each other, the endless string of insults and nasty remarks, the accusations of uselessness, selfishness, and hatred. Only Cordelia had ever given her chance after chance after chance, never turning Fiona away when she had come.

"Delia," Fiona whispered. How she missed her daughter. Strange. She'd never missed her before, or at least never consciously realized it. But now, it was another ache in her body, a nervous churning deep in her belly.

A soft hand began to stroke her hair. "I'm here," she murmured.

Fiona opened her eyes and saw her beautiful Cordelia sitting beside her. "How?"

"You're not the only Supreme in the family now. I have my ways," Cordelia replied with a small smile.

"Why did you come?"

"You needed me." Cordelia shook her head. "You've never needed me before."

Fiona couldn't refute that. But she could clarify it. "No, but I've always wanted you."

"You dumped me with Auntie Myrtle when I was ten."

"And I was sent to the Academy when I was seven. I kept you with me much longer than I should have. But I didn't see the power in you that I was expecting. So I waited until I was sure," Fiona explained.

Cordelia scoffed, "Yeah well, I guess I have always been a disappointment."

"You were my successor. You started taking from me the moment you were conceived."

"And what would you have done if you'd known?" Cordelia could feel the lump forming in her throat, afraid of the answer to a question she had never been brave enough to ask.

Fiona curled her legs into her chest, hoping to relieve some of the searing pain in her back. "I would have taught you better."

"Would you really?"

"I'd like to think so. If I had known that my daughter would be the Supreme, I would have been able to prepare for the end. Taken it with more dignity. Maybe a little grace, even."

"Mother, you were ready to kill every single one of my girls less than a year ago," Cordelia pointed out.

"I was in pain. I was afraid. I wasn't ready to die."

"And now that you are dead…"

"I'm still in pain."

Cordelia went back to stroking her mother's hair, comforting her in a way she herself had never experienced. "You'll be alright, Fiona. You've been fine so far."

She scoffed. "I don't remember anything. I died in your arms and woke up here."

"That was a few months ago. Things are different now. And things are different for you, too."

"I'm alone." Fiona's voice was small and weak and desperate. She closed her eyes tight, trying to keep the pain inside, prevent it from leaking out any further.

Just then, a rustling came from outside. Loud footfalls on the porch.

"You're not alone. You have love."

Fiona opened her eyes. The room was blurry. A blonde shape shimmered and disappeared. "Delia?" But she was gone.