Scott finds her in the barn, mucking out stalls.

  "You don't have to do this, you know." He takes the pitchfork from her hands. "Not in your condition."

  Anne presses a hand to her swollen belly. Seven months pregnant with their fourth child. "I need to keep busy. If I stop moving, I start thinking."

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  "About Charlotte?"

  Anne nods, throat tight.

  Scott sets aside the pitchfork and pulls her close. "She's safe, love. You made sure of that."

  "But is she happy? Does she know she's loved?" Anne's voice cracks. "What if she thinks I abandoned her because I didn't want her?"

  "Then someday, when it's safe, you'll tell her the truth. You'll tell her you loved her so much you gave her up to save her life." Scott kisses her forehead. "That's the most powerful kind of love there is."

  Anne wants to believe him. But the ache in her chest never goes away.