Niece? The look on her face asks the question her lips cannot, not wanting to voice the v-word in front of her daughter. Beth is blissfully unaware of the darkness that looms behind corners, of the reason why her birth mother insists she wear the locket full of vervain that she gave her, of why Quinn is very careful not to explicitly invite those she doesn't know inside when strangers come knocking on her door. She doesn't want Beth to be a part of that world.

But as far as Quinn knew, Rebekah's siblings were still vampires, and vampires were incapable of breeding. Yet, looking at that little girl in her arms, she could see the resemblance. There was Mikaelson blood in the toddler, all right, shining through those rosy cheeks of hers, plain as day.

"The kind you'd be better off messaging me on Facebook about," Quinn says quickly, wanting Rebekah to understand that whatever tale she had to tell needed to be done without her daughter present.

"When can I get a Facebook?" Beth asks, swinging Quinn's hand back and forth.

Quinn shakes her head. "Not until you're older — and not until Mommy Shelby says it's okay."

Beth seems to pout, yanking her hand out of Quinn's so she can cross her arms over her chest. Her lip juts out, and she peers up at both women with large, too blue eyes.

Oh, yeah. She's definitely her and Puck's daughter. No doubt about it.