"Hush little baby, don't say a word. Momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird." Georgia sat up in bed, holding Eliza in her arms, rocking her just a little. Mother watched daughter as she cried herself into a fitful sleep and remembered a time when she'd done the same as a child.

That was one thing Eliza had never outgrown, not completely. Her need for her mother. Jane had come out of the womb an independent spirit who often fussed when held and never once crawled-just stood up and made up her mind that she was walking one day. Silas had fallen somewhere between the two, a happy combination of needy and self-sufficient. But not Eliza.

Eliza was the child who needed constant reassurance and convincing. She slept in her mother's arms nearly every night until she was three, and if her father hadn't been so smitten with either of them, they'd never have gotten away with it.

After a while, Georgia began to doze, her arms wrapped protectively around Eliza the way they had when she was small. Eventually, she jolted awake, Eliza missing from where she'd been asleep before.

She found her on the top step, clutching a knife to her chest with the vacant expression she knew too well. Gently, Georgia helped her back up, pulling the knife from her grasp as she led her back to bed. Georgia tucked the covers beneath Eliza's chin and went into the drawer beside the bed, trading the knife for the needle. "I'm not going to do this to you again, I promise. Not natural." She measured the amount carefully in the moonlight. "But we've had a rough day, haven't we?" She pricked the tip into Eliza's shoulder and injected it slowly. "It'll be better in the morning."

Georgia stroked Eliza's forehead until the glassy stare departed under heavy eyelids. She stood upright again, watching the shallow rise and fall of Eliza's chest.

Somewhere in the night, several houses away, Jane sat up in bed, her eyes rolled back, mouth open in a silent scream. Sam shook her once, gruffly, and she fell back, convulsing while a stream of blood trickled from her nose. He held her tightly as his brothers entered the room like a stampede of elephants. Her rigid body went slack, and she became more still than death until she roused with a shuddering, wet cough.

"Jane? Jane! Speak to me, are you alright?"

Weakly, she clutched his arm. "Sam, we have to go," she whispered, her mouth and lips dry as he wiped the blood from her nose. "It isn't safe. They're here. The monsters are here. In the village. We have to go."

Sam pushed the hair away from her sweaty brow and rocked her gently. "Shh, don't worry about it now. It's going to be okay. Just rest, we'll figure everything out when you wake up."

Jane nodded slowly and curled into his arms. "They're going to kill us all," she whispered.

He sent his brothers from the room and lay awake a long time, holding her tight.

"Got a car accident victim, driver says he didn't see it until it was too late. Female, fifteen or sixteen, laceration on the left calf, scalp torn at the nape of her neck, both unrelated. She was unconscious when we arrived on scene, concussion is probable. Condition: unresponsive."

Nurses and doctors moved her from one gurney to another hurrying to check her vital signs while a nurse snaked a tube down her throat. The nameless victim lay unresponsive, the side of her face turning a crescent moon of magenta.

The heart monitor let out a long, slow beep, but no one froze. There was a space of three minutes that went by before the monitor beeped again. The nurse above the girl's head patted her shoulder.

"You hang in there, honey. You hang in there."

The alarm went off, loud and persistent before a hand reached out and smacked it hard, then stillness. Seconds later, the phone next to the alarm let off a long buzz and a high pitched ring. Annoyed, the woman sat up in bed. "Detective McKee." A pause. "Yeah." Another pause. "Mhm," Pause. "Yeah I'll be there in thirty." Annoyed silence. "Merry Christmas to you too."

"Weld?" James sat up beside her.

"Yeah. Some girl was hit by a car on Westby street last night. He wants me on the case and now I'm supposed to go to the hospital."

James sighed. "But it's Christmas. Your family's gonna be here. My parents are coming, my brother called last night and said he's coming."

"Relax," she pulled out of his arms and then out of bed, the top half of her naked, and made her way to the closet. "It's a visit and some paperwork, I'll be home before anyone gets here."

He gave another annoyed huff. "Serena."

"I promise. Look, everything is in the freezer that needs to go in the oven, the rest is ready in the fridge." She slid her arms into her bra straps and secured it behind her back before tugging an undershirt over her head.

"Last year, your mother tried to shave my beard."

Serena laughed. "I did not marry a man with a beard for a reason."

"You didn't like it?"

"Baby, you can do whatever you want, you know I'm gonna love and support you no matter what." She slid into a pair of pants and sat in a chair to tie her shoes. "Everything's gonna be fine. I just have to go and get a few things done first. I'll be back before you miss me." She pulled the leather jacket over her shoulders and went to the door. James grabbed her hand and squeezed it on the way by and she bent to give him a kiss. "Chickens don't go in until noon, they should be ready to go, just remember to-"

"Baste them every half hour, I know."

Serena kissed him once more. "I'll be home soon." She grabbed her phone from the bedside table and headed downstairs into the snowy morning.

The sun was blinding and high, the air dry and hot. She stood on the dirt road with a stretching field to her right and a small row of houses to her left. She shielded her eyes and walked on down the road.

As she passed the houses, she realized windows were broken, paint was chipping away from siding and doors hung ajar. There was only unending silence. Nearing the fork in the path, something dark in the trees caught her eyes. Then she could hear the shzzzt of a whetstone sharpening a blade. She squinted up at the figure, dressed all in black with large, raven-like wings.

"Excuse me?" Sara asked. "Excuse me."

The figure stopped sharpening and looked down at her. It was then she noticed his skin was dark and his clothing seemed old.

"Where...where did everyone go? What's going on?"

He let out a low chuckle and jumped from the branch where he sat, scythe in hand. "You are in between." His smile was condescending. She stepped back away from him, her stomach turning in knots.

"What's that mean? What'd you do to my mother? Who are you?"

He chuckled again. "Enough of your questions." He walked along the road past her, whistling.

"This isn't home," she called and turned to face his back. He froze. "Why are we here?"

He looked over his shoulder, sighed, and turned back, shaking his head. "You are here until you decide."

He started to walk again, and Sara ran to catch up, meeting his stride. "Decide what? Why are we alone?" She tried to see into eyes that would not look at hers.

The dark angel stopped, his shoulders sagging with an annoyed growl.

"I'm sorry...please, this is all so confusing. I don't understand why I'm here." She looked into his eyes, hesitantly touching his arms. He flinched as they neared him, but he didn't deny her touch. "Help me understand." He scowled, but slowly his eyes began to soften.

The world around them shifted until the two of them were standing in a foreign and cold room. Something made a high-pitched beeping noise and paused. The sound repeated itself again and she turned, facing the curtain behind her. "Where are we?"

"Have a look."

She pulled the curtain back and gasped ar the sight. She was looking at herself, her face purple and cut, tubes coming from her mouth. "This isn't happening... What kind of witchcraft is this? What did you do to everyone?"

He snapped his fingers and they returned to the deserted village. "Either you live or you die. It's your choice." The winged man continued along the path as though nothing had changed.

"Who are you?" Sara shouted after him.

"My name is Dorian." He turned, his wings spreading wide. "I'm sure you're familiar with me by another name." He grinned a toothy grin. "I'm the Undertaker."

Georgia added oats into the warm milk with peaches and a sprinkle of sugar and brought it to the table, placing it before Eliza and bringing one over for herself.

A smile blossomed on Eliza's face. "Just like you used to make it before the day's work."

The mother chuckled. "I thought you'd like that. Shall we say grace?"

They prayed quietly and ate in relative silence, sunlight breaching through the kitchen curtains. And after, they washed dishes side by side, Georgia scrubbing as Eliza dried. With the last of them done, Georgia grasped Eliza's hand. "I wanted to apologize."

"For what, mother?"

She drew a deep breath and squeezed Eliza's shoulders. "I fear I was too hard on you when you needed me. I've...I've done the wrong things, all the wrong things. But all I ever wanted for you, for your brother and sister too, all I have ever wanted was what's best for you. The same as your father."

Eliza looked down. "I know. I want...wanted...those things for Henry. And for Sara too." Her chin wobbled. "What am I going to do with myself, it's just him and me in that house all by ourselves. What if one of us dies in the Choosing? What if Sara comes back and we're both just gone and no one is there for her?" She choked on her own sobs.

Georgia held her tight. "I'm here for you, baby. I'm going to protect you. Don't cry, everything is going to be alright."

"What if it isn't? I can't live like that..."

"Hush now, hush," Georgia smudged her tears away, cradling her face in warm hands. "Your father and I did not raise quitters. You are stronger than you believe, and together we are gonna get you through this. Do you hear me?"

Eliza met her mother's eyes with a nod before she buried her face in the crook of Georgia's neck.

"Now, there's something I need to discuss with you. Something about Hamish-" Georgia began, but a knock on the back of the door caused both of them to turn. "Speak of the devil..." Georgia muttered and stood to answer the door with a forced smile. "Why, Hamish, do come in. Have you eaten yet? I made oats for the two of us, I'd be more than happy to make some for you."

"No, thank you," his response was stiff and he never once made eye contact with Georgia. He stared Eliza down instead. "I'm here to collect my wife."

Georgia smiled and gave a light-hearted laugh. "How funny, we were just discussing that! I was going to ask Eliza if she'd like to stay with me for a few days so that you might get some rest. I'm sure you'll be rounding up a search party to do a sweep of the fields for our dear Sara."

"Naturally," Hamish nodded. "But who'll keep up the house in her absence?" His voice was tinged with a taughtness that Eliza seemed not to detect. If she had, she didn't make a show of it.

"We'll go keep house for you during the day and she can come back here with me at night," Georgia insisted.

"Don't you think she'd be more comfortable in her own bed?"

"She has a bed here too, in case you'd forgotten. She grew up here." Georgia's eyes turned cold, her hands now resting on Eliza's shoulders.

"Please..."

"I'm her husband, and as her next of kin, I am in charge."

"Stop."

"I'm her mother and I'm keeping her here."

"Stop, please. Please don't do this to me...:"

"Be quiet, Eliza."

She fell silent and sunk back in her chair.

"Don't tell her what to do, you don't own her. She's a woman, not a sheep."

"Could've fooled me with how much wool you've pulled over her eyes."

"STOP! ENOUGH." Eliza slammmed her hand palm-open on the table and although it stung, she looked Hamish hard in the eye. "I want to stay with my mother."

"What made you think you could choose?" Hamish ventured, stepping closer and closer until he was looming over her, making her feel small.

"There a problem in here?" Silas stood in the doorway, an axe over his shoulder, staring Hamish down. All eyes fell to him and the kitchen was shrouded in silence. "Lizzy?"

Eliza looked into her hands, feeling her face go hot and red all at the same time.

"I think it's time you left, Hamish," Silas walked slowly past him and held the door open. On the way out, Hamish locked eyes with him for a single moment, noticing they were different, but unclear as to why.

Sam's brothers had long deserted the breakfast table in favor of the livestock in the barn, leaving Jane and Sam behind. He ate, watching her carefully when she wasn't looking. She seemed especially tired and even depressed, but he couldn't understand why.

"Can we please talk about what you saw?" he asked, reaching across the table for her hand. Finally, she looked up at him and tried to smile, but her eyes dropped again.

"It's...it was..." she tried to form the words he might understand in her tired mind, but it was taxing. Instead she sighed.

"What did you see? Don't explain it, just tell me what you saw. We'll figure it out together."

Jane looked at him with a bit of fear and desperation in her eyes, a little 'please, don't make me,' before she sighed and relented. "I was walking down the road, and the houses were empty and doors were open, but there weren't any people." She held herself. "But down the lane I saw something, so I went closer and..." She seemed especially distraught, her brow wrinkling as she stifled a cry. Sam squeezed her hand tighter. "There were bodies on the path. Some of them bloody or dismembered, and ahead some hung in trees." Jane drew in a shaky breath. "And then I saw you and I ran to you and tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't and then your eyes opened and you said "Run.""

Sam got out of his chair and came across the table to hold her. "Hey, it's okay. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere." After a moment, he knelt beside her. "What do you think it meant?"

She heaved another breath, gulping her composure back into place. "I...I think we need to leave, Sam. Something isn't right, and I don't want to be around to find out what it is."

"What are you talking about?"

Jane hesitated, swallowing and then she began. "Do you remember when you went off for the first hunt of the season? Right after we were married." He nodded and she continued. "There was a creature that tried to attack me. I told you it was a vision and I got hurt from falling into broken glass, but I didn't and I'm sorry I didn't tell you then, but I didn't think you would believe me-" she stopped to cry into her hands again. "Please, I'm so scared. Please, Sam, let's just go away."

He was at first angry, but knowing he had a secret of his own, the anger vanished. "We'll figure it out together. Nothing's going to hurt us, I promise."

She wanted to believe him, but all the while knowing that fate was a mistress who did as she pleased whether she was liked or not.

He stood in the mirror, straightening his favorite tie. Once upon a time, it had belonged to Silas Sr, and now it was his. It seemed fitting to wear such a thing on the day of his wedding.

Christmas day had come with sadness and reluctant silence, but he would be married that day, and he hoped, it would at least be a brighter note in an otherwise gloomy and depressing season.

Eliza and Jane entered behind him and he smiled at their reflections. He stepped back, admiring the picture of the three of them, grown and together. Eliza, the eldest, Jane in the middle, Silas, the baby. "Look at us," he laughed. "Who'da thought, huh?"

Jane laughed, rubbing his arm. "I wish the both of you all the best."

Silas turned to Eliza and took her hand. "I know the family's not complete. But we'll get her back."

The church bell rang and Georgia cried out something unintelligible as they broke from their reverie and headed off to the chapel.

As people filed in, Silas waited nervously at the front of the congregation, his mother, Abberline, and Frank sat behind him, Hamish beside him with the Holy book. When every open seat had been filled, Hamish called for the people to rise. As they did, Eliza appeared in the doorway, led by Abe who appeared to be taking the job seriously.

He took in the sight of her walking down the aisle, her red hair falling in curls, lacy shawl around her shoulders. She finally reached him and he squeezed her hand, taking her the rest of the way. They knelt before Hamish, heads bowed, and thus, the ceremony commenced.

At the party after, Eliza and Jane stood apart a while, watching the festivities around them. Anna danced with Silas, little girls skipped around them wearing holly and evergreen crowns they'd made themselves, and the barn was alight with candles to set the mood. In a corner, Frank poured generous cups of ale and to the right, men tossed horse shoes.

"I keep thinking about our kids, you know? I can't wait. I can't wait to meet them." He was at least a little drunk, but cheerful.

Jane looked to Eliza with a smile that faded. "You look upset. Do you want to go home now?"

Eliza shook her head and said nothing.

"I'm going to go find Sam, I'll be back, alright?" Jane squeezed her shoulder and wandered off through the crowded barn.

She stood for a while, watching happiness light the room before her. It was not for her; she could glimpse into a window on everyone else's lives, but that happiness and light was not for her. Eliza gave a tired sigh, eyes threatening to weep again, but she took a deep breath in and willed it back.

A hand on her shoulder startled her. Her eyes met with those of her husband, but she promptly looked away.

"Are you enjoying yourself, dear?" he asked, rubbing her shoulders.

Uncomfortable, she shrugged him off, but remained silent, refusing to acknowledge him.

"Eliza," he began softly. "I know you're angry with me. I know you were offended by me earlier this morning and I'm sorry." Hamish sighed regretfully. "I...the house is so lonely without you both, and I... I miss her as much as you do. I can't tell you how much I miss her." His voice was wracked with tension. "Please, Eliza. Sweetheart, come home with me tonight. We should be together."

She turned, shaking, her eyes rimmed pink and watering. "Why should I trust you?"

"In all these years, Eliza, I promise you. My methods have seemed harsh, but I have always put you and our daughter first. I only have your best interests at heart, and I'm sorry if that was ever unclear to you. I love you and I want what's best for you."

Wearily, her resolve softened, shoulders sagging, and eyes fluttering with exhaustion and sadness.

"Don't cry," he hushed her softly, gathering her up in his arms. "I'm here. I promise you, I'm not going anywhere."

As she stained his shirt with her tears, Hamish allowed himself to smile-just a little-in light of victory.

Jane and Sam found themselves in a dancing circle with Silas and Anna, laughing and spinning, changing partners every few minutes. She joined her brother, twirling under his arm a bit carelessly. He caught her from tripping and she laughingly braced herself by holding onto his shoulders.

She caught his eye and her smile vanished.

"What's wrong?" He asked, stopping abruptly.

She forced a smile and said "Nothing. Nothing, I think I've just had too much to drink to be spinning like this." Jane chuckled and excused herself with Sam to get a bit of fresh air.

"What is it, what's the matter?" Sam asked.

"They took him. He's one of them," she whispered.

Serena sat at the girl's bedside. She'd come back to the hospital after the relatives had dispersed or gone to sleep, unable to get the young thing out of her mind. The heart monitor beeped in a steady cadence, the hush of the ventilator sustaining her for now while an IV dripped above them.

Serena reached up and brushed the girl's hair aside, holding her hand with the other. "C'mon, honey. It's Christmas. I ain't gonna let you spend it alone."

In the corner, Sara stood with Dorian, watching the woman, all the while feeling her touch. "Who is she? Why is she here?"

Dorian didn't answer. He continued to watch over the scene, feeling heavy-hearted, but he wouldn't let it show. He had a job to do, and so did his charge. "Have you made a decision yet?"

Sara shook her head. "If I live, then I might never see my mother again. I might be too late to save her. And I don't know what I'll do if I am."

"But...?" he asked after a while.

"But I've risked too much not to try."

It was quiet for a while again, just the hush and hum of machinery. And then, Serena, with a sigh, began to gently rub Sara's arm. Softly, she began to sing.

"Blue skies
Smiling at me
Nothing but blue skies
Do I see."

Sara wandered closer to the woman, hesitating before she got any nearer.

"Bluebirds
Singing a song
Nothing but bluebirds
All day long.

"Blue days
All of them gone
Nothing but blue skies
From now on."

She stood behind the woman, looking down at her and her body, feeling the weight of her decision as it fell heavy on her shoulders. "I have to stay," she said softly at first. She turned to look at Dorian. "I have to stay. Wake me up, I have to stay." She turned back to watch herself a moment longer, waiting for something to happen. "Is it working? How does it-" She turned again, but Dorian was inexplicably gone.

She was trapped in a limbo with no one now to explain what might come next.

He brought her tea to her with the hope that it would strengthen his story. He added a spoon of sugar from the pot to the cup and stirred it thoroughly before carrying it upstairs. Hamish sat down at her side and offered her the cup and saucer, which she took and smiled weakly at him before she sipped it.

"I'm glad you came home," he smiled, rubbing her leg.

She swallowed a sip of her tea. "You were right. We're a family and we should be together." She nursed her cup a while longer before he noticed her grimmacing. "Can we sleep? I feel a little ill."

"Of course. Of course we can." He set her cup aside, pulling the blanket up as she turned over. Snuffing the candle out, he made his way to the other side of the bed and slipped under it too, careful to keep his distance.

He'd dusted her nightgown, her side of the bed, and her pillow with arsenic.

FEBRUARY

The days were growing longer.

At five-thirty, the gentle light of the gloaming was still sneaking in through the lace curtains. Before long, there would be a Choosing and planting would begin. The snow would melt and things would bloom. But she did not care to look forward to those things. Not just now. She brushed a hand through her thinning hair.

She'd been with her mother that afternoon, tucked under a blanket in the living room, shivering and thin. Georgia held her hair back while she retched into a bucket, shuddering like a leaf in the wind. Hamish had restricted their access to each other, finding reasons to keep them apart. After Georgia cleaned the bucket, she returned with tea, letting Eliza rest her head in her lap.

"It's Hamish, sweetheart. He's been giving you things to make you ill."

"No, he wouldn't... It's just the two of us, we're all we have now. And he takes such good care of me."

"Fine then, we'll go back to your house and have a look around. We'll see what we see."

And that was precisely what they did. In the shed, they found a single box.

'He's coming, Eliza. He'll be here any minute.'

She gritted her teeth. The voice that whispered in her ear was only a confirmation of what her mother had said. At first she hadn't wanted to believe he could hurt her, wanted to think only the best and that Hamish was just acting in her best interests. But then her mother explained what would happen if he were poisoning her. Her hair would be thin and dull, she would perceive things no one around her did, among other things that seemed less severe or noticeable.

But there she sat with a box in front of her that she'd never seen before. It had to come from the trader, because nothing of that variety existed in the village. A grimacing rat lay on the front of the box beneath the bold letters "RAT KILL." She stared into it as if it were feeding her answers to all the questions that swam in her mind.

The front door opened, but her focus didn't budge.

"Eliza? Are you down here? Is dinner ready or do I have time to wash up first?"

She sat very still, feeling as if she might combust at a moments notice. He appeared in the doorway at last and her eyes flicked to him, daring him to try to explain.

"What are you doing with that? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?" He stepped forward, his tone quiet in the way he reserved for trying to manipulate her.

"I don't know. Do I?" She asked, looking to the box briefly. "But I suppose I'd rather know...do you?" Her eyes met his.

He focused on the box, but he made no answer.

"All this time. You made me believe I was crazy. You made me believe I was sick. You made me believe you were my salvation. Why?" She looked at him expectantly, trembling. "Why?" She only hesitated a moment. "Answer me!" She was on her feet.

"What will you do, Eliza? Who will you tell? You'll tell everyone, of course, but who will believe you?"

"How long? How long, Hamish," her voice cracked.

"Just after Sara was born."

She collapsed back into her chair, nearly too exhausted to hold up any kind of a fight. "You've been killing me slowly for sixteen years?" Her eyes watered, stomach turning to rocks.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why does it matter? Run, go tell everyone their leader has been poisoning his wife. No, truly, do it. I want to see what happens."

Eliza was on him instantly, grabbing at his shirt. "Kill me, then. Kill me. What are you waiting for, do it! Do it."

Hamish grabbed her wrists in a tight clenching grasp that made her buckle just a little. She looked into his eyes, the same ones she'd known all these many years, and whispered a shaking plea. "Why did you do it, Hamish?"

"What do you want me to say, Eliza? I did it because I hate you? I did it because your instability is a burden? No, no, my dear, it's much more simple than that." He leaned forward and whispered into her ear.

"I did it because I could."

He let her go so unexpectedly, she dropped to the floor as he walked away. There he left her, her eyes burning and face hot as she tried to make herself understand.

The hospital halls had become familiar to her. So familiar, in fact, that Serena could have walked them blind. She knew certain nurses and doctors by name, and in return, they knew her too. She turned the corner to the familiar, plain room.

"How's our girl today?" Serena asked, walking into the hospital room as the nurse was stretching their Jane Doe's arms and legs.

"Still strong as ever. Found any family yet?" the Nurse asked.

"Not quite, but she's still a minor. Deputy's giving it another week or two before we move forward to declare her a ward of the state. Meantime, he's got it plastered all over the news, just in case she hitched a ride out here. We're exhausting all our options first." Serena stood over the girl looking down on her, the bruises healed, and only minor scars remained. Serena smiled.

"You got kids, Detective?" the Nurse asked.

"Nah. My husband and I were holding off on it. We always said we'd adopt. Too many kids in foster care need a good home."

"Why not take her then?"

It was an idea Serena liked immediately, but she tried to talk herself out of it. "We'll see." She leaned down to whisper in the girl's ear. "There's a whole world out there, honey. It's all waiting for you. All you gotta do is open them eyes." She stood up again. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Sara stood in the corner watching until the nurse left before she went to her body. "Wake up. Come on, you have to wake up. We're running out of time. Wake up!" She tried to grab herself, but her hands caught nothing. She let out a frustrated shriek and pounded a fist into her chest. Again, nothing. Sara closed her eyes, willing back tears. "Please wake up, please. Please wake up." She fell to her knees by the bedside, begging for something that wouldn't come.