"I can't believe they got him," Hex says, shaking her head as we make our way back to Doc's place.

Both of us watched Gus getting arrested. Hex tried to save him when she heard the sirens in the distance, and I pretended to try, but by that point Gus had stripped naked and was rolling around on the icy street screaming and there was no way he'd listen to reason. I'm not even sure he was aware of our presence at all.

"Mm," I agree.

"I mean, what I don't get is who called the cops? There was no one around that area.
Those apartments have been vacant for two years!"

As she says this, Hex gives me an odd look. I can feel her putting the pieces together.

"Where did you go? When I went after him?" she asks.

I say the first excuse that comes to my mind. "I was trying to call West to see if he could help us. I thought about calling him last time Gus freaked out."

That last part is true. I'll never know if Hex actually buys it though. There's this knowing look in her eye and I'm certain she's figured out what really happened. This girl and I have been best friends, closer even than sisters, for the past four years. No one knows me better. She must think it was the right thing to do though because she doesn't confront me about it.

Back at Doc's, we start taking inventory of Gus's stuff like we did with Adam's when he died. My heart twists when I see that filthy stuffed dog. What have I done? Couldn't I at least have given him the chance to get his stuff? But even as I think it, I know I couldn't have successfully snitched on Gus any other way.

"No money. Big shock there," Hex says, tossing his empty wallet at me.

"I don't think he had anything with him," I say sadly.

"Except that book. The Boxcar Brats or whatever the fuck. He always had it in his back pocket no matter what," Hex says.

"No, not even that. He was naked remember?"

"Yeah but I handed his clothes to the cop."

"Oh. Okay, that's good he at least has that. What's that book situation about anyway?"

"Who knows? He just has some attachment to it, I guess."

We continue to scrounge through Gus's possessions for a few more minutes. It might seem heartless or just downright dirty to do this, but once a person is gone, their stuff is ours. Of course we mourn them, but we'll never throw out cash or drugs and clothing we can sell. Adam and Gus would understand that, I'm sure of it.

"You think he'll be okay?" I ask softly.

Hex takes a deep breath. "You want the Hex answer or the Ember answer?"

"Hex," I say.

"No. Not unless he gets his shit together. If he doesn't, I give him a few more months until he's with Adam. That's what he wants anyway."

"But maybe he'll have a chance now," I say hopefully. I'm really starting to feel shitty about what I've done to Gus.

Hex laughs. "There's no happy ending for kids like Gus, Ember. Not in this life. If he's lucky he'll get a foster placement with people who treat him like he doesn't exist. That's the best he can hope for."

"Are the homes really that bad?"

Hex shrugs. "Half and half in my experience."

"What's the worst one you stayed at?"

"The preacher's house," she says flatly.

"You were a preacher's foster kid? Oh my God," I say.

"Yeah. From ages six to twelve. I ran away at thirteen. That prick was a real famous preacher too, locally speaking. Preached at a mega church that had thousands of attendees. We were forced to go too of course- me and the other foster kids they had. They were all three around my same age; Crystal, Maddie, and Angie. He was so relatable and honest, people would always say. Honest? Honest my ass. Those stupid sheep would believe anything that came out of his mouth! Meanwhile he'd choose one of us every night to rape and abuse in his garage. He would only foster little girls. And no one asked why, because he was so honest and relatable. A real man of God."

"That's fucking disgusting. I'm sorry," I mumble.

Hex shrugs. "Nothin' anyone can do about it now."

I think about Cricket's foster mother, Mia.

"I know it's a small chance, but maybe Gus will be placed with someone great who will really love him," I say hopefully.

Hex rolls her eyes. "Yeah," she says flatly. "Right."

————————

The next morning, I'm woken up by Hex gently shaking my shoulder.

"Can you get that heart monitor out of my bag?" she asks when I open my eyes.

She looks scared, but she's so obsessed with this heartbeat ritual I can't tell if something is actually wrong or if she's just anxious about it as usual. Now that Adam has died, Hex is more freaked out than ever about protecting this baby. She won't even let Jesse smoke his regular cigarettes in the house.

I find the heart monitor in the front pocket of Hex's big backpack and give it to her. She immediately starts searching for the heartbeat but can't seem to find it.

"Let me try," I say, taking the wand from her and moving it all over her huge stomach.

I've become somewhat of a pro looking for this heartbeat every morning and night, and I can usually do it in under a minute now. This morning, however, I can't find the heartbeat at all, and I'm starting to feel a little anxious. Suddenly Hex stands up and says she has to pee.

I'm sitting there waiting for her to come back, looking at the monitor, trying to determine if it might be running out of batteries or whatever, when I hear Hex screaming my name. Jesse wakes up and mumbles, "What's goin' on?" in this half asleep voice.

"Hex!" I shout back at him as I run in the direction of the scream.

The sound is coming from Doc's backyard. Hex is there, pulling her pants back on.

"What is it?" I gasp.

"I'm bleeding. ER. Now!" she snaps.

I mentally figure up how long it'll take. The nearest ER is about half an hour away by train.

"Can you make it to the L?" I ask her.

Hex nods. "I'm having some weird pain in my back, but I'll make it."

I tell Jesse what's going on and then we start making our slow journey to the train station. On the way, Hex tells me she hasn't felt the baby move since last night, and in addition to bleeding she thinks her water might have broken too. I don't say anything. Hex is two months out from her due date. If the baby is born today, at least the hospital will keep it in the NICU for awhile, and she'll have some time to prepare.

I don't want to scare Hex, but I think something might be wrong. It's not just because they take her back right away. I can see on the nurses' faces that there's a problem, and I can tell Hex is getting more and more anxious because she sees it too.

"I'm sure it's nothing. Maybe the baby just has less room to move around in, so you aren't feeling it. I think that happens," I say gently.

The nurses keep running in and out of the room, but no one will talk to us and most of them barely even glance at Hex. It's like they're trying not to look at her actually.

Finally a doctor comes in to confirm what I was trying so hard not to allow myself to suspect: the baby is dead. No, they don't know why. There's no reason. Sometimes babies just die, just like that. Sorry. Oh the dad died too? Just a few days ago? Oh that's a weird coincidence. Sorry about that too.

Okay, fine, they weren't that heartless about it when they told Hex, but nothing seems to matter after those words are said, and it just sounds like cruel gibberish to me.

I can see by the look on Hex's face that she's shutting down. This is it; her line, her breaking point. I always thought she didn't have one, but now I know everyone does, even the strongest among us. Everyone has that one thing that, if they were to lose it, they would never be the same. The baby was Hex's, and now I'm in danger of losing her too.

"Don't slip away," I tell her with tears in my eyes.

She responds with the same thing Gus told me the other day: "I'm really tired, Ember." At the time with Gus I thought it was because he was crashing and needed sleep. But now that Hex says it the way she does, I wonder if he meant it the same way she did.

Neither of them are tired because they need sleep. They're tired of the fight. I'm tired of it too. I'm tired of everything always going wrong and nothing going right. I'm tired of trying to be a better person than the one who put Cricket in that trashcan. I'm tired of keeping secrets and telling lies. Tired of survival. But I keep at it for Cricket. Without her baby, can Hex keep at it too? Or is this it for her? I can't let that happen.

"I know you are!" I tell her passionately. "But don't give up! Don't let yourself drift away!"

Hex doesn't respond to me because, at that moment, she's hit with a spasm of pain. The contractions have started getting worse, and there isn't a lot of time left.

It seemed so fast when it happened to me. I had been nauseous and woozy that morning, feeling crampy and bloated. The contractions didn't even hit me until we were halfway to Doc's though. Yeah that's where we were headed that morning, to buy more dope. I was still using back then.

I'm so stupid I didn't even know I was having contractions for awhile. I really did think I was just having withdrawal pains. Then when I felt that urge to push, I knew. I keep asking Hex if she feels that urge, but she keeps saying no, so I figure we're in the clear for now.

The hours seems to drag on forever, the contractions growing in intensity until finally Hex gives birth to her baby... a girl, at around three in the afternoon.

The nurses bring her over in a white blanket and little pink hat, and we both just stare down at her. I can't stop the tears that are running down my cheeks. It hurts for so many reasons, one of them being how much the baby looks like Adam. Hex says her name is Daisy after Adam's sister, and that starts a whole fresh round of tears. I'd give anything for Adam to be here seeing this.

"You wanna hold her now?" Hex asks me after about half an hour.

I reach for the bundle and hold Daisy close. It's surreal when I compare it with holding Cricket recently. He was so wriggly and warm, alive, and Daisy is cold and still. It adds a whole new layer to how awful this is.

Hex has been crying on and off since we got to the hospital and found out Daisy is dead, but it's not that awful gasping, screaming crying I saw her do when Adam died. These tears seem more accepting, more resigned to the fact of death, and I realize that some part of her was expecting this. When you lose so much, it's easy to get used to that hollow feeling.