The chartered jet taxied out to the runway, and within moments gained momentum, shuttering until the wheels left the ground. The lights of Providence became smaller, until they were just a cluster, separated from other cities by the dark countryside.

I relaxed against Jared, my eyes heavy.

Jared kissed my hair. “Do you think you'll have good dreams?”

“Yes,” I said without pause. “Maybe I'll dream about our baby. Maybe I'll see what she'll look like.”

“She?”

“Yes, it's a girl,” I assured him.

“And what if it's a boy?” Jared asked, playfully nudging me.

“It's not. It's a girl.”

“Blonde, of course,” Jared said.

“With blue-grey eyes,” I sighed.

“No. She'll have your eyes,” Jared insisted.

Before long, I dozed off, sleeping deeper than I had in months. I didn't dream of our baby, or of Jack or Gabe, or anything at all. I closed my eyes and was lost in a peaceful darkness until Jared kissed me awake when we were about to land.

The pilot made his announcements on the intercom, and Jared checked my seat belt one last time.

“It's fastened,” I said, smiling.

“I just want to make sure....” he said, laughing once to himself.

We landed without event, and once we set foot on the pavement, I grinned. “It hasn't changed a bit, except for the number of people waiting on us this time.”

“We only have two suitcases, and no tech cargo. It's been an easier trip for me this go-round.”

“I'd say so,” I laughed.

Jared carried our suitcases to an old, rusted pick up truck, after a short drive, our island chauffeur slowed to a stop beside the pier. As we boarded the small boat Jared had secured for us, it occurred to me how unlikely it would have been for anyone else to have made arrangements at such late notice, and so early in the morning. Jared, however, had enough connections to do whatever he set his mind to.

“It's awfully dark to be wandering around in the ocean, isn't it?” I said, unsure as the boat captain steered in the general direction of the island. The boat was quickly swallowed by the night, and the cool air off the water won over the thin fabric of my jacket.

“Cold?” Jared said, wrapping his arms around me.

“Not now,” I smiled.

“He's made this trip enough times, I'm sure he could do it blind-folded.”

“When it's this dark, he pretty much is,” I said, a bit anxious.

A half-hour later, the boat docked at the small pier of Little Corn, and I sighed with relief. The waves had just begun to rock the boat a little more than I was comfortable with, and lightening had begun to spark across the horizon.

We met another small truck with our luggage, and a small, sleepy man by the name of Jose drove us to the same Casita we'd stayed in during our previous trip.