He held it out to her. Gently, handling it so carefully she knew he knew what it meant to her. She kept it in the car because it held everything, the happiness of childhood, the expectations of the future and, above all, the grin of the man who had loved her more than anyone in the world. If it had been anyone else securing this for her, she would have appreciated tremendously the care, but that it was him clashed with her deeply rooted anger, leaving her unsure of how she felt.

She took the photograph as carefully as he held it out to her. Once she had it in her hands, once she had it to look at directly, it suddenly didn’t matter who it was who had saved it for her.

“Thank you,” she said. She would have thanked anyone short of the man who had actually shot her father for finding this and understanding its importance.

He moved then, and she thought he was trying to get up. But Cutter again got in the way, making it impossible for either of them to move without stepping on him. She glanced at Hayley and Quinn, who were looking at each other, apparently unaware of the problem with their dog. Odd, they didn’t seem like—

Her thought was derailed when Quinn turned his head. He looked at her, glanced at Cutter, then back to her, then to Adam, as if he were...assessing somehow. As if he and the dog were—

She broke off her own silly thought; Quinn was an amazing man and Cutter obviously an amazing dog, but to think they were mentally communicating somehow was beyond ridiculous. But then she looked at Hayley and saw not assessment but understanding as her gaze flicked from her to Adam and back.

“I need to figure out how I’m getting home,” she said hastily.

“Adam could take you,” Hayley suggested blandly, “since he’s intent on heading back to the other side.”

She nearly jumped. “What? No, I...” Her gaze flicked to the man beside her. He was staring down at the dog now. Avoiding her eyes? Why not, her protest had been a bit sharp.

“Then you’ll stay here,” Hayley said, as if she’d done it intentionally. “As you should, so we can make sure you’re all right. We’ll get you home in the morning.” She stood up. “And we’re ordering in pizza so you,” she said to Adam briskly, “might as well stay for dinner.”

“What? No, I—”

He broke off more sharply after saying exactly what she had.

“Cutter, m’boy,” Hayley said with a glance at her pet, “you’ve got your work cut out for you this time.”

The dog made a low sound that almost sounded like “Hmpf,” as if he were shrugging off her doubts that he could accomplish whatever it was.