Ryan stared at the photo again. “Not so much anymore. There’s a bit of sadness, sure, but the hurt doesn’t sting like it once did. Clichéd as it sounds, I guess time has helped to heal the wounds.” He glanced back up, held her gaze, but this time, he saw something different in Amy’s eyes—an undercurrent of sorrow. Her eyes still glowed, were still magnetic, but there was something there that he hadn’t noticed before, a buried sadness.

“Amy, are you all right?”

She shook her head.

“What is it?”

She could feel the pinch in her throat, tears welling in her eyes. Despite herself, her defenses were beginning to break.

“It’s my mom,” she whispered. “I—I lost her too.”

“What?”

“It happened a month ago.”

“Seriously? Why didn’t you—”

“It was a car accident,” Amy said, swallowing hard, doing her utmost to keep a level voice. “Wasn’t even her fault. If she’d left work just a minute later, she’d still be alive. She’d still be with us. But she didn’t. And now she’s gone.”

“Amy, I’m so, so sorry.” Ryan moved closer, put his arm around her, and they were silent for a moment while Amy wept. “I don’t know what to say. Here’s me going on about my father and my mother and here’s you dealing with this.”

“It’s awful, Ryan. I’m trying to be brave, trying to be strong, but I just miss her so much.” Again, she went to reach for her pendant but burst into tears when she remembered that it wasn’t there.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” she cried, burrowing in closer to him.

“Please, tell me.”

“It’s my mom’s pendant. I just really wish I had it with me right now. She gave it to me when I was a little girl, and last night I was so upset that I tore it off my neck and left it back at the hotel.”

Ryan brought her in even closer, leaning her head into his chest. “Why don’t you tell me about this pendant of yours, tell me what makes it so special.”

“It’ll sound childish.”

“Don’t be silly. Tell me.”