Part 135 (2/2)

Her hands were linked hard in her lap. She could see her window, her

bedroom window where she had once stood with Darren and gleefully

watched a fox dart through the trees.

”I can't.”

”Okay. We can sit as long as you like.”

She could see herself, wading in the stream, Bev laughing as Darren

splashed madly in his bare feet and rolled-up overalls. She remembered

a picnic the four of them had shared, a blanket spread under a tree, her

father quietly strumming his guitar, Bev reading a book while Darren

dozed in her lap.

She'd forgotten that day. How could she have forgotten it? It had been

such a beautiful day, such a perfect day. The gra.s.s had been cool, the

sun warm and lazily yellow where it pushed through the leaves, the shade

soft and gray where it hadn't. She could hear her father's voice, and

the words he'd been singing.

Never too late to look for love / Never too soon to find it.

They had been happy, Emma thought. They had been a family.

Then, the next day they had given a party and everything had changed.

”Yes,” she said abruptly. ”I want to go in.”

”Okay. Look, it might be better if they didn't know who you are, about

the connection, I mean.”

She nodded, and drove through the open gates.

Michael closed a hand over hers as they stood in front of the door. Hers

was like ice, but steady. He put on his best smile as the door opened.

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