Chapters (47)
- Cover
- ALSO BY MARJORIE B. KELLOGG AVAILABLE FROM DAW BOOKS
- Dedication
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- About the Author
“Like, what would I do?”
“Do?” He studied me, distress tightening his jaw. What was obvious to him should be obvious to me. “You would . . . be with me, feed me, take care of me. Let me do the same for you. The things couples do for one another.” Then he frowned, like my words had delivered another, hidden message. “Hold on. Don’t you want to get off the Island?”
“Not just so you don’t have to go out into the wilderness alone!”
A pained moan deep in his throat. “Is that what you think?”
“No! Yes! I don’t know!” My tongue was running away with me and a new flood of tears was ready on tap. “It doesn’t feel right! It’s too much like my father, cutting and running. Leaving behind everything he’d worked for, he and my mother. Sure, I wanted to leave when it was all everyone talked about, all that got you up in the morning, when everything seemed hopeless, when my view of the world stopped about three feet in front of my nose. But now . . .”
“Now . . . ?”
“Now I’m just finding myself . . . finding Lizzy . . . again. What if being here, where she . . . I . . . lived before . . . is the only way those memories can be triggered? Daniel, I can’t be a couple until I’m a whole person! Can I?”
To my astonishment, he looked relieved. So relieved, I thought he might collapse. He started to speak, then didn’t. Instead, he grinned and shook his head.
Why not? I’d just taken the burden of my expectations off his shoulders. He was free to go. But I’d started my declaration. Might as well finish.
“And then there’s all of this!” I gestured wide across the tumult in the hall. “The dens. Our new sense of shared purpose. You said it yourself—all these people working together, so many different personalities and skills and ideas. It’s a chance for what Rube believed in and worked for, even when no one would listen and everyone called him a traitor. A chance to remake den life. Create a possible future for all of us, long-term and sustainable. To make it work . . . and last!”
I awaited his rebuttal—the sustainable part was always the risky assumption. But he just kept smiling. I thought I read pride in his gaze. For what? For who?