She looked around at the place as though she’d never really seen it before. “It needs some work,” she conceded. He wondered whether she was talking to him or to herself. “I’ll get around to it at some point. I guess I’ve been too busy.”

“I’m surprised you asked me to come here,” Cormack said. “It’s risky.”

“Compared to what I’ve already done?” she asked. There was more life in her voice now, and it made him feel better. “Besides, I needed to see you before I could believe you were really alive, after the last few days,” she joked.

He held his arms out at his sides, as though ready for inspection. “Well, here you are,” he said. “See for yourself, still breathing and only a few extra dents.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me too,” he admitted. “Are you?”

“Am I what, glad?” she asked.

“No, are you OK?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She stepped toward him, reaching out and touching his chest. Before he could move, she was leaning forward, kissing him—gently at first, and then harder, with unmistakable urgency.

He kissed her back, and for some reason it felt like the first time. It was odd; they had been intimate for seven months, and their physical relationship had always been active and fulfilling, and yet it had always been just that—physical. This felt like something new, something different. After a moment she broke off the embrace. She looked at him, and it seemed that she was as surprised as he was.

“What was that?” he asked.

“I’m not really sure,” she admitted. “Was it weird?”

“It was different.”

“Different good, or different bad?”

“Good, I think.”

They stood there, looking at each. He moved forward and took her in his arms. They kissed, and this time there was no hesitation for either of them.

Later, they were lying in her bed. Cormack looked at the beams overhead, wondering what had happened between them. There was no question that the stress of the preceding weeks had taken its toll on him. He’d lived a life on the edge for as long as he could remember, but he couldn’t recall a time when he’d escaped near certain death in the way he had twice in a short period of time. And the guilt he felt at the thought that he’d put his daughter in danger was more profound than he could comprehend. Maybe that stress was breaking down his walls.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked him.

“Soh,” he responded. It was only a partial lie. He had been thinking about everything that had transpired recently, and Soh was a central player in those events.