years in perspective to put them all on the line;

Beth awoke to Daryl gently nudging her and whispering in her ear, "Rosie… psst, hey… wake up, babe…"

She stretched out and sleepily asked, "Hmm?" She'd forgotten, in her sleepy haze, that she was sleeping in his bed and that Malachi was just across the room. It was still dark and quiet in the apartment. Daryl planted a few soft kisses along Beth's neck, below her ear.

"C'mon, I'll take ya t'yer room," he whispered against her skin.

She blinked and tried to wake up, but she was groggy and felt like she could roll over and go back to sleep for a very long time. However, she resisted the call and allowed Daryl to help her up and out of the bed. He led her quietly through the bedroom, tiptoeing past Malachi, who was still sound asleep in his bed. She leaned againt Daryl and he practically carried her through the hallway, her body exhausted and unwilling to wake up. When they made it to her bedroom, he guided her over to crawl into bed, where she glanced the clock and saw that it was just after five in the morning. She'd only been asleep a couple of hours and she definitely felt it.

Beth was so groggy and tired, she couldn't even keep her eyes open to see Daryl pulling the comforter up and over her, and tucking it in around her until he was satisfied with her level of comfort. She was drifting back to sleep when she felt his fingers lightly caress her cheek and his lips plant a soft kiss on her mouth. She couldn't remember hearing him leave the bedroom.

The next thing she knew, she was waking up and it was nearly noon. The apartment was no longer dark but filled with the sunlight that was pouring into the living room. The central air had kicked on and the only sound that could be heard was coming from the vents. The apartment was warm and Beth could tell it was another summer-y day before autumn began outside.

She lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling for a while, recalling everything she could from the night before and that morning. But it was all quickly outweighed by the stresses of the day before. Slowly, they weighed down on her once again, and then she was just as tense as she'd been before crawling into bed with Daryl. Even the nausea was beginning to make a reappearance.

Beth reached over and grabbed her phone, unplugging it from the charger and checking for notifications. She was surprised to find a text from Daryl, and she quickly tapped on it and read:

Need anything tonight?

She wondered what exactly he meant because it could be several different things. Either way, she had the same response, and she quickly typed it out and sent a reply that said, "No, don't think so but thank you for asking :) How's work?"

She checked her inbox and found another text message from Irma, but she chose to check the news sites again instead. She spent several minutes checking and double-checking for any national coverage, and then she moved on to Georgia and Atlanta news and was relieved to see that her family's headline hadn't been updated, and it had also been bumped down to nearly the bottom of the page. This helped to ease her nausea somewhat, until she remembered she had a bigger and much more imminent problem to figure out. And she didn't know how much longer she could keep it hidden.

Beth got out of bed and dragged herself to the kitchen, brewing some fresh coffee and willing her stomach to calm itself. She went to the bathroom and washed her face and brushed her teeth, washing away the last remaining haze of grogginess. When she returned to the kitchen and poured herself a small cup of coffee, she found the smell to be unpleasant in her nostrils. She was only able to swallow about half of what she'd poured before she gave up and poured it out. She opted for a bottle of water and the last of the gingersnaps instead.

On her way out of the kitchen, she glanced at Carol's dish resting in the dishrack, clean and dry and waiting to be returned. Beth hesitated and debated with herself on taking it back. But if Daryl could see something different in her face, what would Carol see? She wasn't sure that she was ready for that conversation and the questions that were sure to arise.

Even though a small part of Beth really, really wanted to confide in someone. And in a weird way, Carol had a maternal sort of aura about her, and it only made Beth feel even more vulnerable in her presence. It intrigued her as much as it scared her away.

What I wouldn't give to talk to Momma one more time, Beth thought sadly.

She finished the gingersnaps and relaxed into the bed with her phone in her hand, scrolling through more research about pregnancy. She'd created a list of realistic possibilities in her mind and had managed to narrow it down to a few viable options, working things out in her head as she learned more. For the next half hour, she stared at the screen of her phone and read all about pregnancy symptoms, complications, costs of doctors and necessary paperwork, the laws in the state of New York concerning all forms of reproduction, and even locations of all the women's clinics in the city.

After about an hour, she found herself reading about adoption laws. She shook herself from the trance and set her phone down, sighing and blinking tiredly. She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes, the aching in her chest appearing once again.

Without much more thought – because it was becoming more and more painful – Beth picked up her phone and opened Irma's text message. She learned that Irma and Dale were still living it up in the Midwest, visiting some friends they hadn't seen in years. Beth began typing out a text message in response, but she had the strongest urge to hear the voice of someone who cared for her in the way only a mother would.

And she knew she could pray all day, but her momma wasn't answering. Beth wasn't even sure if she was listening anymore. Maybe she was just six feet underground and that was that. Maybe she and Shawn were the only ones who'd truly made it out of the farm.

Beth pressed the Call button and held the phone to her ear. She was slightly trembling, though she didn't know why. Her heart sped up as she listened to the ringing in her ear, doubting her choice more and more with each ring. She was starting to wonder if Irma was busy with her friends. Maybe she'd just be bothering them and she should let the sweet, old couple enjoy their lives without the burden of Beth and her existence –

"Rosie!" Irma's voice came through the phone loudly, and it startled Beth at first. Then she smiled.

"Hi! Um – are you busy?" Beth asked.

"No, no – Dale and I just got done with lunch," Irma said happily, and Beth could hear the smile on her face. "We're meeting some friends later for a barbecue but right now, we're just sittin' back and enjoying the weather! How are you? Is everything alright?"

Then Beth could hear Dale's familiar voice in the background, calling out, "Hi, Rosie!"

"Oh – Dale says hi," Irma said, chuckling.

Beth laughed. "I heard. Tell him I say hi! I'm doing – great, um, sorry I haven't called, I've been kinda busy."

Irma clucked. "Don't worry about it, I understand! Did you find a job? And you're still spending time with those friends? What about the living situation?"

Beth spent the next fifteen minutes talking casually with Irma about her living situation and the friends she'd made, though she was sure not to get too specific with any details. Irma didn't prod, and she seemed genuinely happy for Beth and concerned for her well-being. Beth's eyes watered at some of Irma's comments more than once.

She tiptoed around her giant predicament, trying her best to sound optimistic and hopeful so as not to worry the older woman. But when it came down to it, she couldn't bring herself to say it, or to even attempt at putting it into words. Instead, she retained her sanguine façade and, when her voice finally gave her away, she chose to make the issue appear as small as possible. The last thing Irma and Dale needed was to worry about some fugitive murderer's moral dilemma.

"What is it, honey? Just tell me – you sound so worried about somethin'. I know you called for a reason, not t'hear about our silly old butts," Irma prodded, and Beth swallowed hard.

"I – I dunno," Beth sighed, all the words building up and then crumbling away in her mouth. "It's… I dunno what t'do. I can't seem to… Well, I have a pretty important decision to make, but I'm afraid – um, I'm scared I'll do the totally wrong thing…"

She could hear Irma tsking on the other end sympathetically, and her voice grew softer. "Oh, honey… you're not thinkin' of going back to that guy, are you?"

Beth scoffed. "No, of course not! It's not – that. I mean… I've tried to move on and forget him, but it's like… everythin' he did was jus' plantin' seeds to pop up and ruin my life later on. I can't just – I can't run away from him like – like I thought…"

Irma was silent for a few seconds and then she said, "Oh, that… Well, you just have to do what you think is best. You're young, you're in a new place, you've been through a lot. Just… take a breath. For yourself. Whatever that means. Don't make a decision just 'cause you think it's what somebody else would want. Don't let the fear make your choices for ya, sweetie – you're strong. You can do whatever you put your mind to, I know it."

Beth nodded and pursed her lips, forcing back tears. She couldn't get the image of her momma out of her head.

"Thanks," she choked out, and turned away from the phone to sniffle loudly.

"Will you be okay?" Irma asked, still sounding worried. "If you need anything, you know – "

But Beth interjected, "No, no – I'm fine. Thanks. It's really… it's not that bad, ya know. Jus' gotta have faith, I guess."

Irma seemed to accept this but didn't hesitate to voice her concerns a few more times before she and Beth agreed to speak again soon and ended the call. As soon as she set the phone down, Beth burst into tears.

She cried into her hands, sobs wracking her body and tears pouring from her eyes. It felt like it had all been building up and the dam had finally been broken. After a few seconds, she didn't even have an explanation for why she was crying, and then she felt ashamed while she tried to calm down and steady her breathing. She wiped away the tears and grew frustrated, getting up and going to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. Something about talking to Irma and hearing someone's genuine, motherly advice had been the one thing to really push Beth over the edge. She was glad the apartment was empty.

Beth was on her way back to the bedroom, walking through the hall after she'd gotten her face to return to its normal color. Her eyes glanced across the kitchen, as usual, but this time they paused on the plate sitting in the dishrack. She stopped and stood in silent contemplation for a second.

What was it about Beth that Carol thought gingersnaps would help? Was it that mythical "pregnant glow" she'd heard about? Or was it the way her face was always flushed from either needing to throw up or having just been throwing up? Maybe Carol could spot signs that other people couldn't?

"The women in my family have been eatin' 'em for generations," Carol had said.

Who? Beth thought. The pregnant women in your family? And here I thought she just liked gingersnaps and made too many. But then she went on to ask me if I felt okay… She knew I wasn't hungover…

Shaking her head, Beth went into her bedroom and sat down on the bed, mind racing. She put her face in her hands and tried to focus. But everything was clustered, it all felt like too much. She thought she might explode from everything she was holding inside. She'd thought talking to Irma would help her to feel better, but it had only made her more forlorn. And crying only made her want to cry harder, which was a slippery slope she wanted to avoid.

At her core, she knew what she needed to do. What she had to do. But she'd have to do some digging and pull back a lot of layers to get there. To feel sure about anything.

Before she could change her mind, Beth got up and changed into real clothes, slipping her phone into her pocket. She went to the kitchen and grabbed Carol's plate, then headed out the front door and straight across the hall to the door of apartment 3B. She almost hesitated with her hand at the door, ready to knock, but she willed herself to rap on the wood. Then she stood and waited, nervously turning the plate over and over in her hands as she stared at the door.

A few seconds later, she could hear Carol approaching on the other side, then the lock was clicking and the door was opening. Beth swallowed back tears as she stared at the short-haired older woman standing before her, a look of pleasant surprise on Carol's face.

"Rosie, hey," Carol greeted with a smile, glancing at the plate in Beth's hands. "Oh, just bringing the plate by?"

Beth shrugged. "Um… yeah. I – thanks for the cookies. They were really good."

Why was she wimping out now? She scolded herself silently and pushed back against the dread building inside her.

Carol continued smiling, holding her hand out for the plate. "No problem, glad you liked 'em."

Beth handed the plate over and Carol took it, then paused and watched Beth as if she'd expected her to turn and leave. Beth could see Carol's eyes studying her, and she willed herself to speak.

"Is there… somethin' else?" Carol asked, furrowing her brow. "Are you feeling okay?"

She was growing concerned and Beth could tell, so she swallowed and looked away from Carol's piercing blue eyes in order to muster enough courage to say what she needed to say. It came out weakly and a bit jumbled, but she pushed it out nonetheless.

"I… I need your help. Or – somebody's help. I dunno who – I-I dunno where t'go, or who to… talk to. It's… kinda serious."

Carol's face grew even more concerned, but she looked like she already understood. She glanced behind her into the apartment, then stepped aside and gestured for Beth to step inside.

"C'mon, come sit down," she urged, leading Beth to the couch after closing the front door and setting the plate on the kitchen bar. "Sophia's at school and Malachi's down for his nap, so we won't be interrupted."

The two women sat together on the couch, leaving half of a cushion's worth of space between them. Carol leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, giving Beth her full attention. Beth felt herself shrinking under her gaze, and she wondered if Carol had any idea how intimidating she could be sometimes.

The TV was on but left at a low volume and Beth could smell cookies in the air. Carol's apartment was warm and cozy, but not too warm, and something about the calm setting made Beth relax just slightly into the couch. She mulled over her words, any sort of sentences she might've had prepared long gone by now. It felt like half her brain – and courage – had stayed behind in the hallway.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" Carol asked quietly, her voice steady and soothing.

Beth shook her head. "No – well, not really. It's… somethin' that happened before I left. Before I got to the city."

Carol furrowed her brow and Beth could see her playing a silent guessing game. "Okay… well, you don't have to tell me. But if it's something you need – just tell me that. Tell me what I can do t'help."

Beth swallowed and looked down at her hands in her lap, picking at her fingernails anxiously. She wished there were some way to get the help she needed without having to reveal specifics. But there just wasn't any way around it.

"I… have nowhere else to go," Beth said, her voice coming out strained and quiet. Carol leaned in to hear her better. "I… Can you promise you won't… tell anyone?"

"You mean Daryl?" Carol asked softly.

Beth nodded without hesitating, still looking down at her lap. "Especially him."

She saw Carol nodding in her peripherals. "Of course I won't. No one. Especially not Daryl."

Beth took a deep breath and tried to find the right words. She was still asking herself if she could really trust Carol, but then again, wasn't she way past that by now?

"I'm… pregnant," Beth finally said, and the word spilled from her mouth like vomit. Hearing it aloud made her want to actually vomit.

She cringed and shut her eyes for a second, and when she opened them, she met Carol's gaze. But her face didn't appear as shocked as Beth had expected. In fact, she looked more relieved than surprised.

"Is that it?" Carol asked gently.

Beth nodded, biting down on the inside of her cheek. What else was there to say? Wasn't it pretty obvious that she had a huge problem on her hands?

"Well, I guessed that much," Carol said, and gave Beth a small, reassuring smile.

Beth raised her eyebrows and choked back her shock. She still felt like she could start pulling her own hair out any moment, and the itch on her wrist kept coming and going. But seeing Carol's expression calmed her a bit, and she began to think that maybe, if this woman wasn't appalled by her secret, then just maybe it wasn't as much of a disaster as she'd thought.

"How far along are you?" Carol asked.

Beth shrugged and swallowed hard. "Uh… I dunno, exactly. Probably… a month, I think."

She watched Carol furrow her brow again. "Wait – you just found out?"

Beth nodded, eyes growing wider. Had she really thought Beth was trying to hide a pregnancy since the moment she got here? As if she would've thought that was even possible?

"Uh… yeah," Beth said.

Carol sighed sadly and stared at Beth with a pitying look in her eyes. It riled up a tiny flare of anger inside Beth and she had to look away, down at her hands again.

"Oh… honey," Carol muttered quietly. "From… your ex?"

Beth nodded without looking up, picking at her fingernails.

"I thought… you knew already," Carol explained. "I could see it in your face this whole last week. Then Daryl said you haven't been feelin' well… Wasn't hard t'figure out – but I didn't realize…"

She sighed again and paused, but Beth didn't even want to talk. She kind of wanted to stand up and leave, go back to her bedroom and back into hiding.

"So what do you wanna do?" Carol asked, and Beth hadn't been expecting to hear that next.

She raised her head and looked at Carol. "I… have no idea."

Well, I have a lot of ideas, actually. But none of them make any sense when I think too hard, and you'd never be able to understand the full gravity of the situation anyway, since you have no idea that I'm a wanted fugitive who is right in the middle of trying to flee the fucking country, Beth thought sourly.

A few moments of heavy silence passed, and Carol seemed to be giving Beth time to think and mull things over. She watched as Beth looked back down at her hands thoughtfully.

"Did you do any research?" Carol asked softly.

Beth didn't look up, mumbling, "Yeah… a lot…"

Too much, she thought. I know just about every conceivable thing that could go wrong in this pregnancy.

Another few moments of silence and Carol seemed to be in no rush whatsoever to move the conversation along. Beth appreciated that, and she thought it was probably a good trait to have in someone who wanted to be a counselor.

"Okay… D'you have any questions, maybe that I can answer?" Carol asked, her voice apprehensive.

Beth shook her head, still not looking up. "Not… really…"

More long silence. But it wasn't silent at all because Beth's mind was still running a hundred miles a minute. Her heart was nearly keeping up at the same rate.

"Are you… wanting to keep it?" Carol asked, and her voice was even quieter than before.

Without much hesitation, Beth shook her head.

Totally outta the question, she thought, and something inside her knew with great conviction that Maggie would agree on this one. There's no possible fucking way. I can already imagine holding my first child in my arms and staring down at it and seeing… him. Seeing the farm. Seeing August Eleventh... That day would become a milestone in the baby's conception. If not for them, then for me. I might love them, but they'd always remind me of how careless I was and how many mistakes I made, of all the hurt I caused and felt… I may be strong, but I'm not that strong… I don't know anyone who is.

Carol seemed to understand without explanation, though, and Beth saw her nodding from her peripherals. There was another long bout of silence, as if they were both mulling over the remaining options together.

"Okay, so there's… adoption…?" Carol worded it like a statement but the way she said the last word made it sound like a suggestion that she was looking for an opinion on.

Beth scratched at her wrist absent-mindedly. Yeah, carry a baby to full-term, go through this miserable pregnancy while I'm also running from the cops. Try to get a fake ID, try to find a doctor who won't recognize me… Put myself on all kinds of hospital cameras, all over medical records… Try to find a family that wants a baby in a country where there's over a hundred-thousand kids already waiting to be adopted… And then what? Even if I make it, then I still have to leave the country. I can't stay. I can't keep in contact with them… God forbid, they recognize me one day. What if the kid grows up and puts two-and-two together? Do I really think I'm capable of moving to an entirely different country while knowing I left behind a child with half my DNA in America? I can't do that… I can't abandon a baby that never asked to be here… I could never live with myself. That would eat me alive eventually… It already is.

She sighed tiredly and heard Carol taking in a deep breath. But she didn't say anything. Beth could feel the older woman's eyes on her, but she was still focused on her own train of thought. It was all the same things she'd been thinking about in her bedroom, all coming from the same list she'd already mentally formed. But now it felt like Carol was holding a big, red pen and helping Beth cross out the options and make her way down the list until she found the only plausible solution. Somehow, her brain seemed to think more clearly and fluidly as she sat on Carol's couch, the other woman's presence comforting her.

"I mean, you don't even have to make a decision right away," Carol explained softly. "Not that I'd advise it, but… you can always change your mind. If you have it, and you don't think you can do it – there's other options. You can still adopt it out. You can even leave it at a fire station, like the old days. No questions asked – it's all completely legal… No one will judge you for whatever you decide. No one can judge you."

Beth almost laughed aloud. Yeah, right. That'd be even worse than having to pick a family and lie to them. I'd still be leaving behind my own flesh-and-blood, except there'd be way more questions. "No questions asked" never actually means that… Someone would poke around, get nosey, get curious. Or the kid would put it together eventually... I can just imagine the field day they'd all have if they used my abandoned baby's DNA to track me down. Dear God… what kind of person would I be to just abandon a baby I carried like that? Everyone would judge me. That baby would hate me – and for good reason. I would hate me.

Beth's stomach was turning and she shook her head, dismissing the suggestion completely.

A few seconds of silence and then Carol said, almost in a whisper, "Then there's… abortion."

Beth raised her head at this and met Carol's eyes. She expected a look of judgment or dismay or just plain disappointment, but there was none. She looked exactly the same as when she'd suggested keeping the pregnancy to full-term. Beth swallowed hard and blinked, but didn't nod or shake her head decisively. She was studying Carol, still unsure of whether she was serious or not.

But she raised her eyebrows and watched Beth expectantly, and when Beth didn't say anything for a solid minute, she added, "Those are… your options. I wish I had more for you, and I know they all seem… really shitty. But – well, you don't have any questions? I wanna help any way I can, Rosie…"

Beth remained silent and thoughtful, but she was battling with herself on the inside. She'd come to the same conclusion on her own, and it seemed even more logical right now, in the comfortable haze of Carol's apartment. The word didn't even sound dirty coming from her mouth. Beth had always been taught to believe that was a taboo subject altogether. It was forbidden, one of the most heinous sins. But admittedly, she'd done worse to protect her family… Hadn't she?

Yet all she could keep thinking was, What if…? What if… what if…

"Whatever you decide, I can help," Carol said. "I have a lot of friends around here. A lot of resources. There's tons of people who've been in your exact situation… You're not alone."

Oh, but I am, Beth thought resentfully. No matter what I decide, I'll always be the one who has to live with it. I'm alone. I'm really alone.

But she nodded and looked down at her lap. She scratched her wrist and realized it was red from her fingernails. She stopped herself and muttered, "Okay… I think… How can I do it?"

She looked up to see Carol raising her eyebrows, a bit taken aback at Beth's sudden resoluteness. She spoke slowly and clearly, like she was measuring each word. "Well, what do you think you wanna look into…?"

Beth blinked and cleared her throat, unsure of why there were tears building behind her eyes. "Um… ab-abortion. I-I think I need… t'get rid of it. I can't – I can't keep it. I just… can't…"

I can't have any more connection to him, she finished in her head. I can't give birth to a living ghost of the past I ran away from.

She expected more questions and she was reflexively building a defense and an explanation in her head, but Carol didn't ask for it. She just nodded and gave Beth a reassuring smile.

"Okay," she said simply, as if they were planning a lunch date. "I'll call my friend and get an appointment for you."

That easily? Beth thought.

"But, I don't have any ID, or anythin'," she started, an intricate lie already planned out in her head since long before she finally pushed herself to knock on Carol's door. "I – I don't wanna risk him findin' me if I…"

Carol put up her hand dismissively and shook her head. "I know. Don't worry about it. No one even has to know your name."

Beth raised her eyebrows in disbelief, swallowing all the words she'd been prepared to recite. "Really?"

Carol put on another reassuring smile. "Like I said, don't worry about it. I told you, I can help. You don't have t'explain yourself to me… Okay?"

Beth nodded hesitantly and the women gazed at each other for a moment, sharing an unspoken understanding and gratitude.

"D'you want a couple days to think about it?" Carol started to ask softly. "Maybe we go on Monday – "

But Beth stopped her and said, "No – as soon as possible. If you can… please. I… don't wanna change my mind. I know what I need t'do…"

Carol pursed her lips and nodded, and Beth could see through her polite smile. She thought Beth needed more time.

But what did she know about this decision?

She didn't argue, though. She continued smiling and nodded. "Okay. I'll call her later today, maybe she can make you an appointment tomorrow morning. They might have time for you in the afternoon… if you want."

Carol made it clear that she wasn't rushing Beth and that she could say no. But Beth nodded and said decisively, "Yeah. I do… Thank you."

Carol nodded and her polite smile finally faded and was replaced by a real one. Then she stood up and began strolling to the kitchen.

"You want something t'drink? Some cookies?" She offered, obviously trying to lighten the mood. "Oatmeal raisin today."

Beth was still reeling from their conversation but she felt stuck to the couch, frozen in her own little bubble of thought. She answered weakly, "Sure…"

"Tea? Water? Juice?" Carol asked, rummaging around in the cupboards. "Wine?"

She chuckled at her little joke but Beth didn't find it very funny. In all honesty, she could probably chug a whole bottle of wine right now.

"Tea sounds nice," she said, loudly enough that Carol could hear her from the kitchen.

Carol returned a couple of minutes later with a tray holding napkins, two glasses of sweet tea, and a small plate of cookies. She set it down on the coffee table and held one of the glasses out for Beth to take, which she did.

"Thank you," she mumbled, taking a long sip. The taste reminded her of summers on the front porch of the farmhouse.

Carol nodded and took a grateful drink from her own glass, setting it down carefully and sighing in relief. "Sorry, I really needed a drink. And you look hungry – have a cookie. I can make you a sandwich, if you want…?"

Beth shook her head and smiled politely, setting her glass down on the coffee table and carefully picking up a cookie and a napkin. "Oh – no, this is fine. Thanks."

She nibbled on the cookie and felt Carol's eyes still on her. The older woman watched her take a few bites before she spoke again.

"You don't have any more questions?" She asked, eyes softening. "Ya know, you can ask me whatever you want, I'll give you an unbiased answer. And you can still think about it… there's still time. You're early on – "

There'd really only been one major question in Beth's head, and she wasn't sure that Carol would have an answer for it. It was more of a private moral dilemma. She'd already read most everything she could find about abortion. It wasn't even the procedure that terrified her the most – it was the risk of being seen, or recognized, or documented. It was the feeling of being a lost soul in God's eyes. It was the aftermath, and how she'd be able to cope with her own thoughts and feelings after it was all said and done. There was always some sort of downfall to her choices, and now that she was expecting it, she didn't know how she was supposed to be prepared.

Maybe it was the sudden, small sugar boost she was getting from the tea and cookies, but Beth interjected and asked, "D'you think… it makes me evil? To do this…"

She couldn't think of a more suitable word right now. Evil felt right. She knew she was already practically evil after what she'd done on the farm. But this… this was an entirely different kind of choice, and whatever she chose was solely because of her own selfish reasons. She wasn't saving anyone with this decision except herself. Was that enough reason to go against everything she'd been taught to believe?

Carol didn't answer for what felt like a long time, and Beth looked up hesitantly from her cookie to see the older woman studying Beth's face thoughtfully. There was a trace of sadness in her expression. She blinked and gave Beth a small smile.

"No. I don't," Carol said matter-of-factly. "Do you feel like it makes you evil?"

Beth averted her eyes back to the cookie in her hand. Here we go with the counselor shit, she thought.

She took another small bite and chewed slowly before replying, "I dunno… Kinda."

Carol reached over and picked up her glass to take another swig of sweet tea. Beth awaited another question or more prodding, but it didn't come. She finished her cookie and looked up to see that Carol was still watching her, studying her. Observing her.

Stop trying to figure me out. You can't.

"That's what you were taught, huh?" Carol finally asked.

Beth nodded. Not that it was difficult to guess. She didn't hide the cross around her necklace, and she and Carol had discussed something similar not long ago. It wasn't like there were tons of churches that promoted a pro-choice mindset.

Carol sighed as if it were something that exhausted and saddened her. She spoke gently, "Life isn't so black-and-white. Period. And when it comes to this sin, in particular… well, I'm no expert. I believe, like you. I also have faith… I have faith that God wouldn't want us to be prisoners in our own bodies. Under any circumstances. Ever."

To Beth's surprise, Carol's words rang through her and felt reassuring. She didn't know what her daddy would say, she wasn't positive what Maggie would say, and God only knows what her momma would think if she were alive. But Beth was the one who had to live with it. She was the one who had to deal with whatever consequences came next. And she felt a common thread that connected her and Carol's faith.

After a couple of seconds of contemplation, Carol added softly, "No matter what I've been taught over the years, I just… can't even force myself to believe that God sent us here to suffer."

Beth couldn't help but think that her daddy would agree… Wouldn't he?

I've already sinned in a way that can't be forgiven, she thought, oddly optimistic. Maybe some things really are accidents. Maybe some things really are just meant to be… tests. Of strength. Or perserverance? One hell of a test, but… shit. What kind of god would test me like this? Maybe Daryl has a point, after all… Or maybe it's just a punishment. Maybe I wasn't sent here to suffer, but I made my own suffering. Maybe this is just one of many punishments that I've brought upon myself…

She knew her guilt wouldn't fade away that easily. She'd have to sit with it, live with it, sleep with it. She'd have to learn to work her way around it, or at least navigate it and figure out where it would take her next. Like Carol said, she could always change her mind.

But she had a feeling that there was really only one option in this situation. And for the first time in her life, Beth Greene would have to learn to put herself first.

to be continued…

A/N: Y'all already guessed that Carol knew, and of course you were right lmao but I didn't wanna spoil the surprise of her and Beth's conversation - and the surprise of Beth actually seeking out help.
The title of this chapter, as well as the next 3 chapters, are all taken from the song "I'll Get My Just Deserve" by Touche Amore and La Dispute. Once again, it fits these chapters rather perfectly.
I'm excited for y'all to see what's to come in the next 3 chapters. I already have them written and chapter 32 will be posted in the next 2-3 days! Thanks to everyone for reviewing, following, favoriting. If you're reading, let me know that you're liking it! Reviews encourage me to write more, even if you say nothing but "WOW!" or whatever! :D