Or maybe he wouldn't. Her mind was racing, and her heart still hurt. She was worried about what she would find at home, the kind of mood Edward would be in. Domestic violence? She shook her head. The doctor had been so nice, but he didn't understand after all. Edward never laid a hand on her. They fought; they had problems. His terrible childhood had left him with so much anger.

Lily had read about the cycle of violence. She knew that men who were beaten as children often beat their wives and kids. Edward had hit Judy, but he had resisted hitting Lily. Wasn't that a sign of his willingness to be different, to treat her well? Lily should have explained that to the doctor.

She had been too shy to tell him about their sex life, how painful it all was. Leaving the clinic, she had taken care of the paperwork on the way out. The doctor was busy with another patient, but he nodded to Lily as she passed by. She mustered a smile for him. Look, it seemed to say. I'm fine now.

She dropped the sheet of notepaper in the garbage on the way out, in the pail in the parking lot, but only when she was sure he wouldn't see. And then she drove home. Little did she know, she was already pregnant.

Now, so many years, so many miles later, she looked out the window, at her beautiful Rose playing in her grandmother's garden.

“We have to get a lawyer,” Lily said.

The August day was cool and misty, the contours of every tree and cliff blurred, Cape Hawk's dark pines and black rock ravines painted soft gray by the weather. Only the inn's long red roof remained vivid, visible even across the water, pulling everyone to the ceili.

It was Marisa's day to work at In Stitches, so she and Sam had to practice right there in the shop, doors flung open to the foggy wharf and bay. The two sisters hadn't played together in a long time—over two years. Marisa, dark-haired and tall, sat on one stool, while Sam, redheaded and even taller, perched on another, running through scales on their fiddles.

They were so happy to be together again, and in some ways it was as comfortable as ever—Marisa had brought Sam coffee on the couch that morning, Sam had brushed and braided Jessica's hair—they all had that bone-level comfort that comes from being family. Practicing their music, Marisa wondered when they'd start to talk.