Weakened by sentiment, stirred by longing, and bristling with the dare, Ripley stepped into the circle.

No, Nell thought. She swaggered.

She didn’t hold out her arms as Mia had, but seemed to throw them, and the fire that burst from their tips, onto the ground.

The minute she did, she hissed like a snake. “You did that on purpose.”

“Perhaps, but so did you. And look here, the sky did not fall. You made the choice, Ripley. I couldn’t have pushed you into it unless you’d wanted it.”

“This doesn’t change anything. It’s one time only.”

“If you say so, but you might as well have some wine while you’re here.” Mia studied the trio of flames as she picked up the bottle. Ripley’s was bigger than hers, a result of temper. But not, Mia thought with satisfaction, nearly as elegant.

And, pouring the wine, she felt a fire inside herself. That was hope.

They had another glass when they returned to

Mia’s house.

Restless now, Ripley wandered from window to window. Jingling the change in her pocket. Mia ignored her. For as long as she’d known her, Ripley had never been a quiet soul. And at the moment, Mia understood there was a considerably testy war going on inside of her.

“Have you decided how you’re going to handle your situation with Zack?”

Nell glanced up at her. She sat on the floor, mesmerized by the fire. “No. Part of me hopes that Evan will divorce me, take it out of my hands. And the rest of me knows that’s not the core of the problem.”

“If you don’t stand up to bullies, they tromp all over you.”

Nell admired Ripley. Strong, wiry, and ready, she thought. “Knowing that and acting on it are two different things. Evan would never have taken a piece out of someone like you.”

Ripley lifted a shoulder. “So, take it back.”

“She will when she’s ready,” Mia countered. “You of all people should know that it’s impossible to push one person’s beliefs, ideas, or standards on another. Or to erase someone else’s fear.”

“She’s upset with me because I hurt Zack. I can’t blame you.”

“He’s a big boy.” Ripley shrugged, then sat on the arm of the couch. “What are you going to do about him—Zack, that is—in the meantime?”

“Do?”

“Yeah, do. Are you just going to let him slide through his brooding phase—which is what comes after the pissed-off phase with him and, let me tell you, is a lot harder to live with. I figure we’ve gotten to be pals, more or less, since you’ve been here. Do a pal a favor and snap him out of it before I have to smother him in his sleep.”

“We’ve talked.”