Desperate Plea

"Who are you?" she asked after several moments of silence.

"N-" I realized I didn't have to keep going by that name. I had a chance to tell someone something different. What I'd been thinking was... "Tourmaline. My name is Tourmaline."

A few more tense moments. Then she relented, pushing the tiny infant into my arms. "Please, please take care of her. Please, you can't let them have her." She was desperate, pleading. Years later, I still haven't forgotten a single detail of that moment.

"Of course, I promise." Them?

"Please, you have to keep her safe. She can't live like that."

"Who is them?" I tried, but she didn't seem to hear me.

"You can't let them have her," she repeated. "Take care of her."

I'd barely had a chance to try to say anything else, before her breathing ceased, and she lay motionless on the forest floor.

I looked at the tiny baby. A little girl, bright red hair just like her mother. She was fast asleep.

I stood up. "Let's go home."

"Y-you're keeping her?

"I promised. And besides, she needs me."