9 Months Later
Mason rolled me through the sliding doors of the hospital and towards the Mustang parked at the curb. I stared at the small bundle in my arms. Weighing eight pounds and two ounces, Hope Lives Daily was sleeping peacefully and snoring softly. She was wrapped in the pink blanket my mom bought for her earlier today when she and Dad came to see their granddaughter.
It was a sad fact, but Hope couldn't know about the real world. I didn't want her to live in fear knowing truth about her father, grandfather, and uncles being sons of the devil. She would not know about the outcasts, either. To sum it up, she wasn't going to know anything about any of them, or Dawn, or the Sweeney's, or any of my friends and family.
Sometime in the future Skylar would come back. I knew he wouldn't lie to her, and then I'd have to part with some of the truth. Satan was going to come back, too. I feared for Hope's life but wasn't going to worry about something that wasn't going to happen for a long time.
Mason took Hope out of my arms and laid her in her car seat. He fastened her restraints then kissed her forehead.
Two birds chirped nearby. I thought nothing of it and continued to ease myself out of the wheelchair. They chirped again, this time more consistent, and I looked to see what the commotion was about. Two black birds sat on the power line across the street and stared down at me.
"Hope Lives," I whispered.
Mason tilted his head and followed my gaze. "It sure does."
The birds flapped their wings, and I stared after them until they were out of sight.
"Goodbye Skylar," I whispered. "I will always love you."
