It was just what Max needed, and he let out a laugh. When first they met, Bennett was like a rock, her edges jagged and her surface hard. Yet rocks can be smoothed, fashioned by time into something so much more, and some, like Bennett Archer, can turn into gems. Her ability to find light amidst the dark had always lifted his spirits, lightening the load of memories, heinous and distasteful.

“Where was I?” Max said, setting down his drink.

“Etienne found a cave.”

“That’s right. It was at the base of a small mountain ridge, and it was more like a cavity than a cave. By the time the last of us got inside, we could barely move, but during our repositioning and bitching, Diego found a small shaft leading upward into the mountain.”

“Diego? As in Concepcion’s husband?”

Max narrowed his eyes. “That’s correct.”

“I’m sorry,” Bennett said, holding up a hand. “Go on. I won’t interrupt again.”

“Good,” Max said, sending a stern look in Bennett’s direction. “Now, by this time, only one of our lanterns had any fuel, and fearing it would break in the climb, Diego fashioned a small torch using a damp branch and a bit of the char cloth Topher kept in a small tin where he housed his flint and steel. It was nothing more than an ill-fashioned candle, but it gave Diego enough light to climb up the shaft, where he discovered a cavern. He had little time to look around before his torch burned out, but he assured us there was enough space for all of us, so up we went.

“I remember the smell like it was yesterday. It was musty, almost biting to my senses like an astringent, and the cave’s floor was covered in something gritty, almost like sand. Topher was behind me somewhere grumbling that he’d misplaced his flint box, and Diego, with his thick Spanish accent, was joking about Topher’s ineptitude. I crouched in that dark, fetid cavern for well over a minute before there was a flicker of light, and then someone turned up the wick of the lantern.”

Bennett had kept her eyes glued on Max since he’d begun talking, so when he closed his eyes, Bennett reached for her wine and took a drink. She knew Max had come too far to turn back now. He was merely balancing on the precipice before he took that final step, and Bennett was prepared to wait as long as it took.

Ten minutes passed with only the longcase keeping her company, and getting to her feet, Bennett refilled her glass. The neck of the bottle clinked against the crystal, and Max opened his eyes.

“You’re still here—eh?”

Bennett chuckled as she took her seat. “All things come to those who wait.”

Max closed one eye as he looked at Bennett. “That’s one of the proverbs I taught you.”