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the gun around the room. Now the door was open, the battle going on outside seemed all the more real, literally on their doorstep. “Don’t do anything rash. We just… we just want to understand. Want to understand what this is about.”
    Garth didn’t look like he was listening. His wide eyes just scanned the cots. Looked at all the babies.
    Then they stopped at the empty cot.
    Chloë saw Garth frown. He walked over to the cot. Margery reached for his boot on the way, but he just stood down on her wrist, stamped it against the floor.
    He stopped at the empty cot. Looked at it. His face going pale.
    Then his eyes moved to Chloë at the back of the building.
    The colour returned to his cheeks. A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. He lowered his gun. “Come on, kid. Let the grown-ups talk.”
    “Chloë, don’t listen to him,” Margery gasped.
    “Not safe for a baby in here,” Garth said. He walked closer to Chloë. “So why don’t you hand her over to me? Let me take her out of this place. Looks like the pair of you’s got quite a thing going on.”
    “Chloë, don’t!”
    “Shut up!”
    Garth crouched down. Pressed the pistol to the side of Margery’s head.
    “Garth,” Dad said. “I... You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do any of this.”
    But Garth kept his eyes on Chloë. Kept his gun to Margery’s head, as tears poured down her cheeks. “Don’t play the rebel with me, girl. Hand over the kid. And nobody has to get hurt.”
    Chloë held onto Kesha. Looked from Margery to her dad, then back to Margery again. “I–”
    “Hand her over,” Garth said, standing again, “or I’ll kill you and everyone in here.”
    “He’s lying, Chloë,” Margery said. “He won’t kill Kesha. He won’t kill her because—”
    Garth pulled back his pistol and swung it against the back of Margery’s skull.
    Chloë heard the deafening thunk as it knocked the consciousness out of her.
    Blood oozed out of her scalp.
    “Now,” Garth said, rising to his feet. He pointed the gun right at Chloë. “Are you gonna play this game or are you gonna hand the kid over right this second, girl?”

Nine
    C hloë held onto Kesha and stared at the gun pointed at her.
    Garth still had that smile on his face. Margery lay on the floor, silent. Blood pooled out of the crack on the back of the head where Garth hit her with his gun. Chloë wasn’t sure whether she was alive or dead. Whatever she was right now, she knew she wouldn’t be alive for long.
    Dad stood behind Garth. Stared at Chloë.
    “Things don’t have to get nasty here,” Garth said. He edged closer towards Chloë. Beside him, the babies in their cots cried and wailed. Outside, gunfire and shouts erupted ever closer. The air was thick with the smell of burning. Chloë tasted vomit building in her mouth.
    She backed away some more. Held onto Kesha. She wanted to walk away. To get away from this.
    But another part of her wanted to just hand Kesha over. Because Garth said everything would be okay if she did. He was just trying to make sure Chloë didn’t run away with one of Bardsey Island’s babies, that’s all this was.
    But why?
    Why was he so concerned about Kesha?
    Why was everyone so concerned about Kesha?
    “Your daddy here. He’ll be fine if you just hand the little baby over. Your friend on the floor here, Margery… well, she looks like she’ll have a nasty bruise in the morning. But nothing that won’t heal. And the rest of our audience…”
    Garth looked around at the babies in the cots. That smile on his face widened. He looked back at Chloë, gun in hand. “They’ll be okay. As long as you just do as you’re told.”
    Chloë looked over her shoulder. Saw the passageway that led to the back door. She could try running. But she knew if she tried running that she might get a bullet. And then her dad would die, and everyone in this room would die.
    She couldn’t let her dad die.
    “Why do you want her?” Chloë