She blinks back tears I wasn’t expecting. “Why are you crying? You haven’t even opened it yet.”

She wipes at her eyes with her napkin. “I don’t know even know what it is, but I already love it. I love you.” Her smile is wavery, trembling at the edges.

“I love you too. Now open it.”

She presses her lips together, but the smile simply returns unbidden. And then she opens the small box and gasps, “Oh! It’s beautiful!” She pulls the necklace out of the box carefully, holding it up to examine it.

“Let me help with that.” I stand to move behind her, and she pulls her hair out of the way so I can slip the necklace around her neck and fasten it securely. The wooden pendant falls high on her chest, dainty and small. “I thought you could always have something wooden to touch for luck. It’s got a small indention on the back too, so you can rub it like a worry stone when you need a little extra luck. Or when you need to calm down before you kill me for leaving my sweaty socks on the floor again.”

I don’t do that anymore, won’t ever do it again. One word from Zoey about the smell making her think of being in the trunk with Sebastian’s workout clothes did something years of my mother’s complaining could never do, instantly breaking me of the habit of stripping step by step on the way to the shower after my morning run and leaving my clothes all over the place.

Now, I strip in the laundry room and immediately start the washer.

But Zoey is doing well, so much better than any of us expected. She’s back to work at the morgue, telling everyone that she won’t let anything stop her from doing what she loves and what her grandpa taught her to do. Alver does regular patrols now, checking the morgue, including the refrigerator, each time.

And Jeff stops by every shift too, keeping an eye on Zoey like only a father can.

Zoey touches the wooden pendant thoughtfully. “Thank you. I love it. But I already feel so lucky. I don’t know if I deserve any more.”

“You deserve it all, Miss Walker.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hale.”

We take a car back to my place, and before the front door even closes, we’re touching each other in the dark and dancing down the hallway to my bedroom.

“I want to see you with nothing but that necklace on,” I growl against her neck. Zoey moans. It doesn’t simply sound like a moan of desire but the moan of a starving woman feeling full for the first time in her life. Her period of loneliness is over.