But the pain of where she’d been was too much, she thought sadly. Too exhausting, too depressing, too everything. She wanted to be happy again. She wanted to feel good about herself and what she was doing. Starting now.

She drove to the local sporting goods store and spent twenty minutes trying on swimsuits. Not the cute kind but the serious ones athletes wore. She bought two, along with a bathing cap and goggles, then headed for the swim club out by the baseball field.

It took ten minutes and a hefty charge on her credit card to join. She was given a quick tour and a lecture on pool safety before being shown to the women’s locker room.

One o’clock in the middle of the week wasn’t exactly prime time, so she was alone as she walked out to the Olympic-size pool. There were only two other swimmers doing laps. She paused to watch them for a second, all the while inhaling the familiar scent of chlorine. She walked to the far lane and stepped into the water. After spitting into her googles, she rubbed the lenses and slid them into place. She adjusted the straps for the right fit, then began to swim.

She was halfway across the pool when her sense memories ignited. Her body remembered the easy movements, the pace of her breathing. She was desperately out of shape, but still this all felt good.

She spotted the color change on the lane lines, warning her she was near the end of the pool. She eyed the wall before ducking down to start her underwater turn, only to miss the wall and accidentally inhale. She came up coughing loudly and hung on the edge until she could catch her breath.

“So attractive,” she murmured before swimming out a few feet and trying it again.

The second time she was too close and couldn’t push off, but the third, she executed a perfect turn and shot out into her lane, the push-off giving her momentum.

Victory, she thought proudly. Good for her. She continued to swim, enjoying the sense of freedom and the knowledge that a small piece of her had finally been found.

“What did you do?”

Ellen did her best to look innocent as she stood in the lobby of the hotel in Eugene, Oregon, a pair of room keys in her hand. “Do? What a question. There was a mix-up and we’re short a room. You don’t mind if we share, do you?”

Lissa glared at her. “I’m not fooled. You did this on purpose. You want to make sure—” She paused to look around, as if wanting to confirm they were alone. “You want to make sure I don’t sleep with Luka tonight.”

“Sleeping is really the least of it,” Ellen murmured. “It’s one night. You’ll live.”

She wanted to add that Lissa wasn’t the only one suffering, but that would lead to a conversation Ellen wasn’t about to have with Keith’s teenage daughter.