Serena: June, I think God sent you to me today.
June: You came after me.
Serena: What if he guided my hand to save you so that you can save my baby like an angel?
June: Bullshit.
Serena: There are avenging angels that rain down sulfur and fire from the lord. Rejoice with him, oh heavens, for he will avenge the blood of his children and take righteous vengeance on his adversaries. There are still angels. Maybe that's what you are for me.
June: [shakes her head] Is that what you think of me?
Serena: And when she could no longer hide him, she built for him an arc of bullrushes and placed this child therein. Maybe I'm the arc, June. Maybe I'm the vessel. I carried my baby and delivered him, and I held him. Maybe that's all that was meant for me in this life. Maybe it's God's will. [June takes Noah]
June: God's will. A vessel. That's what you thought I was. We were. Who we were, where we came from, what we wanted, none of that mattered to you, to any of you.
Serena: I'm so sorry.
June: I don't care that you're sorry. We mattered. We were, we are people. We have lives. And that's why I'm gonna save yours, Serena, because this isn't Gilead, and I am not you.
Serena: I don't deserve to be saved.
June: It's not for you. It's for him. Look at him. Look at your baby. You are the only person in the whole world that he knows. You are the only familiar smell, you are the only voice he recognizes, you love him, and you wanted him so much. You're his mother, and he belongs with you. That is God's will. Do you understand me?