Ryan shook his head, smiled, then tucked a strand of Amy’s damp hair behind her ears and planted his lips on hers once more. “It’s exactly what I need.”

After losing themselves for a few minutes longer, they fell sideways, lower into the couch. Amy tucked her head into the nook of Ryan’s neck, and he slid his hand over hers, threading their fingers together as they lay and watched the rain lash at the windows, listened to thunder rippling through the clouds.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked after a long, comfortable silence.

“That you’ll be gone in the morning,” he answered with a sigh. “That this time tomorrow you’ll be hundreds of miles away.”

“This isn’t the last you’ll see of me,” she said, propping her head up and looking him in the eyes. “You know that, right?”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because it’s not as if we’re on opposite sides of the world. You’ve got my number. I want you to call me tomorrow. And the day after that. I want to know you’re all right. I want to know what’s happening here with you and your father. And my invitation still stands—I want you to come see me in Portland as soon as you can.”

“And if I can’t?”

“Then I’ll find a way to come back and visit you.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course.”

“Do you promise?”

Amy squeezed his hand tighter. “I promise.”

They sat quietly for a moment, hands threaded together, watching the storm continue to rage outside, when another jolt of thunder shook the attic and knocked down one of Ryan’s mother’s photos. The frame fell from the couch and hit the wooden floor hard, cracking the glass.

“Ugh, damn—” Ryan reached for the fallen picture, wincing when he saw the damage. “I should really get all this packed up.”

“Here, let me help.”

Amy dragged the box closer and helped him gather up the photos and stow away the sonogram and the astronomy book. Ryan was just about to close the lid to the box when something inside caught his eye.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he said as he perched forward on the edge of the couch.

“What is it?”

“This book . . .” His voice trailed off as he reached in to grab it.

“What about it?”

“I’m not sure.”

Amy leaned over and saw that Ryan had retrieved a children’s book. Titled Chloe & the Magic Mirror, the illustration on the front was of a young girl riding on the back of a dragon. The two of them were flying high above a land of lakes and castles and snowy mountains, the girl waving a sword, the creature breathing fire. It looked like a typical fairy-tale scene, a perfectly normal picture book. Except what really stood out was the depiction of the book’s heroine.