She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. Thanks to Nichols, I don’t need their money. But I do need their grass-roots support. Grid campaigning can’t replace that.” Lauren hung her dress in the closet and put on a nightgown. “So Abby’s flying home tomorrow?”

Sabin hesitated. “Actually, Lauren, she’s decided to stay.”

Lauren turned toward him. He expected her to yell, but instead it looked like she was about to cry. She took a moment to compose herself before speaking. “Sabin, don’t you see how difficult this is for me? For us?”

“I know, it’s not good for the campaign.”

“Not just the campaign. You and me. And probably Chloe too. Right now we don’t need any more distractions. We have a lot of stuff to work through and so little time together, and I know that’s mostly my fault, but…”

“But what?”

She seemed to measure her words. “Did you have anything to do with her decision?”

Sabin sat up against a pillow, feeling defensive. “No. This was her decision. I tried to talk her out of it.”

“Apparently not too effectively. Why in God’s name is she staying? Doesn’t she understand she’ll be indicted?”

“God is the operative word, actually. She thinks God wants her to stay. Even if it means jail.”

“Really? Even if it means jail?” Her face hardened. “The first thing it means is being on the street. I want her out of this house.” She walked toward the bedroom door.

“Lauren! You will not kick your cousin out of my house at eleven o’clock at night.”

She turned toward him, her eyes steeled. “Then exactly when do you suggest we kick her out of your house, Sabin?”

He was silent for a moment. “I’ll talk to her in the morning. I’ll help her find a place to stay.”

“And will you be footing the bill for her as well?”

“No. She has her own money.”

A surprised look crossed Lauren’s face. “From where?”

“Ray’s inheritance.”

She rolled her eyes. “That man will never stop being a thorn in my side.” She opened the door and turned back to Sabin. “I’m leaving for Austin tomorrow. I want her out of here by the time I get back on Thursday.”

“Do you have a minute?”

Sabin stood in the doorway to Abby’s bedroom the next morning. She was lying on the floor, reading the only book she had brought with her to the States other than her Bible: Revelations of Divine Love by Julian of Norwich. She had treasured it for years, and the cover was beginning to separate from the binding. She put the book down and straightened up. “Of course.”

Sabin sat, shoulders slumped, on the bed. “Abby…”

“I know. I heard you and Lauren last night. It’s time for me to go.”

“I’m sorry.”