Griselda was moved to a room on the fourth floor first thing in the morning, and while she still had an IV port in her hand, she was finally allowed to eat solid food for the first time in days. Maya stopped by before work and, opening the licorice Sabrina had thoughtfully left for her, smiled at Griselda from the foot of her bed.

Maya gave Holden her apartment keys and address, and urged him to get away for a little while and go take a shower. He stared at Griselda with hesitation, but she encouraged him to go. After he promised to return in an hour and spend the rest of the day with her, she’d watched him leave, knowing she’d never get used to it. It would never get any easier to watch him walk away.

Maya’s eyes tracked his departure before shuttling back to Griselda’s face, and then she sat down in Holden’s vacated seat.

“Zelda, that man is done and gone for you.”

“And I’m done and gone for him,” sighed Griselda as she finished off the last of her eggs.

“Any chance you can get him to stick around?”

Undoubtedly she could. She saw his eyes. She knew his heart. If she asked, she had no doubt he would stay. But the life of his unborn child still hung in the balance, so she couldn’t. As much as she wanted him, as much as she needed him, she wouldn’t ask him to make that choice or sacrifice for her.

“No,” she said. “He has somewhere he needs to be more than here.”

“He’s a good man, Z.”

“The best.”

“I don’t know how you can stand it. To let him go.”

“You’re gonna make me cry, Maya. Talk about something else.” Something that I can actually have. Something that won’t be walking out of my life again in a matter of hours and taking my heart far away.

“Okay.” Maya took her hand and squeezed it. “As it turns out, I do have something to discuss with you.”

“Something good, I hope.”

“Mm-hm. It is.” Maya cocked her head to the side. “You know Sabrina McClellan’s been here every day, right?”

“She was here last night. I have to admit, I’m surprised. I’ve always—I don’t know, thought of myself as the help, not a personal friend or anything. Honestly, I feel funny every time you and Holden call her Sabrina. I’ve been so careful to, you know, be appropriate, be a good employee.”

“Well, I think she’s amazing, Z. She cares for you a lot. She has your best interests at heart.”

“I believe that.”

“She asked me to run something by you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Thought you might be more open to the idea coming from me.”

“What idea?”

“Did you know they have an apartment in their house? The McClellans?”

“You mean the mother-in-law’s garden apartment? On the lower level of the townhouse?”

Maya nodded. “That sounds right.”

“I’ve only been down there once or twice, when Prudence wanted to go visit Granny’s room. What about it?”

“Well, it seems that the elder Mrs. McClellan has no immediate plans to move in or visit.” She squeezed Griselda’s hand again. “They want you to consider using it.”

“For what?”

“For living, girl.”

“You mean, move in? With the McClellans?”

Maya shrugged. “Why not?”

“Well, for one, I have an apartment.” Griselda chuckled softly in disbelief. “And two, I work for them, Maya. I keep my personal life separate from my professional life. We’re not . . . friends.”

“First of all, you’re not going back to that place—your apartment—after what happened there. Second of all, plenty of nannies live with their families. And third of all, would an employer come to the hospital and sit by your bedside for four straight days? You ask me, that’s the action of a friend. A good one.”

Griselda considered this. She knew Sabrina McClellan’s friends. They were other society women with perfect hair and designer clothing. They drank wine together and talked politics. She and Mrs. McClellan never socialized like that.

And yet they chatted now and then. Sabrina had always taken an interest in Griselda, trying to get her to talk about her experiences in the foster care system and encouraging her to go to college. She raved about the way Griselda tended to Prudence and told her how much storytelling talent she had.

Hmm. Had Griselda misinterpreted the signs? Had Sabrina McClellan been reaching out to Griselda not just as an employer—but in friendship as well?

“You’re quiet,” said Maya. “Does that mean you’re thinking about it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’d be comfortable living there. I don’t know why she’d suggest it.”

“Because she likes you. Because she wants to help you,” said Maya. She took a deep breath and tsked, sitting back with her arms crossed over her bosom. “Damn, Z. You got people who want to help you. You can live there—in a gorgeous apartment—rent free and go to college. You can get somewhere in the world. You can be something. It’s being offered to you on a silver freaking platter. You’re so damn suspicious! Why can’t you just say yes?”

Griselda stared at Maya, surprised she was getting so upset.

“I’m suspicious because life doesn’t just hand you great opportunities on silver platters, Maya. You know that; I know that. Those kinds of things don’t happen to people like us.”

Maya’s eyes flashed, and she looked genuinely angry as she stood up and put her hands on her hips.

“Bullshit. A good thing like that is happening to you, and you’re too bullheaded to see it, or too scared to just let it happen.” She looked down for a moment, as though figuring out what to say, then caught Griselda’s eyes, holding on tightly and speaking earnestly. “I’ve been your friend for almost ten years, Z. Ten years, and I didn’t know your real name until five days ago. You never told me about Holden and everything you two went through. You never told me you were looking for him. Listen, I get it—junkie mom, in the system early, kidnapped. You had some bad times. Real bad. Worse’n most. Believe me, I know. I understand. But you’re all closed up. And you’re stubborn. And suspicious. And you’re not doing yourself any favors, girl.”

“Maya—”

“I ain’t finished,” said Maya, brown eyes wide with sass and attitude. “Quit pushing away the people who want to help you, who care about you. I’m here for you. Sabrina’s here for you. So I’ma tell you what you’re going to do: You’re gonna move into that apartment and care for little Miss Pru every day this summer because you love that child and she’ll help with the sadness when Holden goes home. And at night you’re gonna read through those college brochures Sabrina got you, and use that money you saved to get yourself enrolled. And then when September rolls around and Pru’s in kindergarten every day? You’re going back to school too. Yes, ma’am. Don’t shake your head at me, because that’s what you’re going to do. You are strong and you are smart, Zelda, but you gotta start letting people in. You gotta trust that they’re not all gonna let you down. I’m not gonna let you down. Sabrina’s not gonna let you down. Just say yes.”

Looking up at the friend who’d stood by her despite her secrets, despite her suspicious, stubborn nature, despite her fears, Griselda felt tears flood her eyes and a grin overtake her face. Maybe Maya was right. She could say yes. She could jump at the chance she was being given and hold on tight in the hope that there was something better out there than the life she’d been living.

Maybe it was possible. Maybe, just maybe, she could find the strength and courage to move forward instead of standing still, frozen in time on the banks of the Shenandoah, where her life ended ten years ago.

Her grin faltered, but her tears doubled.

Holden.

What good was any of this without him?

Maya sat back down on the side of the bed, tilting Griselda’s face back up with a gentle finger under her chin.

“And I promise you, girl,” she said, “you’ll figure that out eventually too.”

“How?” sobbed Griselda.

“Because you and him were meant to be together,” said Maya, with a tender, confident smile. “Just not quite yet.”

***

As Holden pulled his jeans back on after a shower at Maya’s apartment, the card from Lieutenant Jones fell from his back pocket. He picked it up off the floor and sat down on the toilet to look at it.

He’d climbed into bed with Gris last night, sitting against the headboard as she slept with her head against his heart and her body curled around his legs. And while she slept, Holden had taken out his phone and spent some time online looking into the Marine Corps.

Words like pride, leadership, and vision had jumped out at him from the official website, making him feel the sort of hopefulness that his life had only found before with Griselda. He looked at the different units, concentrated in California, North Carolina, and Hawaii, that appeared to be organized by function, which led him to seek out training options. He felt a pull toward the combat-ready units, like artillery and infantry, since they’d been mentioned specifically to him by Lieutenant Jones.

At one point, he stumbled onto a Marine chat room, and he had to keep his laughter soft as he read a thread wherein a new recruit asked about Marine training that wouldn’t lead to deployment. The Marines responding had been pretty frank, advising the recruit that if he didn’t want to fight, he wasn’t Marine material. And Holden felt pride rise up in him as he considered that he’d want to fight for his country, for Gris and his baby, for a better life. In fact, it would be a goddamned honor.

I am Marine material, said the voice in his head, brimming with hope and pride.

Taking his cell phone off Maya’s sink, he dialed the number on Lieutenant Jones’s business card.

“U.S. Marine recruitment office. Jones speaking.”

“Sir, it’s Holden Croft. We met—”

“How’s your woman, Croft?”

“Better side of okay, sir.”

“Well, oo-rah! What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t want to wait. I did a lot of reading last night, sir, and I want to be one of the few and the proud. I’d like to come see you tomorrow morning before I head back to West Virginia.”

“You sure about this, son?”

“Sure as I can be, sir.”

“Oh-nine-hundred tomorrow, Croft. Recruiting Station Baltimore. We’ll see what we can do to make a Marine out of a fistfighter.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“See you tomorrow, Croft.”

Holden hung up, slipped the phone into his pocket, and looked at himself in the mirror. For the first time in his life, he didn’t see a foster child or an abducted kid or a fucked-up teenager or a pissed-off man. He still saw a fighter, yes, but he saw the potential to be a good fighter, an organized fighter, a useful means to a necessary end. Someone who could use his deep well of rage to procure something positive for the world. Holden knew firsthand about fear, pain, and injustice, but he also knew how to stand his ground and push back. And he was going to take those natural skills, those visceral inclinations, and he was going to make something of himself. Someone he could be proud of. Someone Griselda could be proud of. He couldn’t wait to tell her.

***

Maya had left for work a little while ago, leaving Griselda to consider the McClellans’ offer in peace, without hands-on-hips attitude.

At her core, Griselda was not a very trusting person. She trusted Maya—and Holden—as much as it was possible for her to trust other people, but that was a short list, and one of those people wouldn’t be a fixture in her life for the foreseeable future. As Maya had pointed out, Griselda had been cagey even with her best friend about her past, and, if Griselda were honest, her future with Holden. She’d kept herself in a sort of emotional solitary confinement that made it difficult to move forward with her life.

But maybe Maya was right: maybe it was time for Griselda to stop seeing herself as an abandoned child, guilty teenager, or worthless adult. Holden had forgiven her, even telling her that her actions had inadvertently saved his life. Maybe it was time for her to start seeing herself as Holden and Maya saw her—smart and strong. Smart and strong. The words felt so good, so right in her head, they almost made her cry, because if she had the will to aspire to any two qualities in her life, it would be those.

If she accepted the McClellans’ offer and lived rent free in their apartment for a while, she could still repay them by making herself useful: preparing Pru’s lunch every morning and babysitting for free on weekend evenings. She could offer to answer the phones at Nannies on Ninth when she wasn’t at class or studying, or mentor new girls looking for a job in child care. And by keeping busy, she wouldn’t have as much time to miss Holden.

She winced, and her heart dipped because, while she was planning an exciting and hopeful new life with a gorgeous, rent-free apartment and college, Holden was heading back to West Virginia to work at a glass factory he hated and care for the mother of his child, whom he didn’t love. Didn’t love . . . now, which led her to a terrible thought: What if just being together every day brought them closer? What if he and Gemma looked at that little baby they’d made together and fell in love again? What if Holden decided that he wanted to be a family with Gemma and the baby, and that there wasn’t space for Griselda in his life after all? What if he never came looking for her?

Smart and strong.

She wiped away a tear and took as deep a breath as possible, flinching from the pain in her chest and her heart. Because as much as she loved Holden, she still needed to live her life, get an education, be useful, write stories, help others. No, she’d never fall in love again, because on the day of her last dying, gasping breath, it would be Holden’s name on her lips. But she could still have a life. After everything she’d endured, she deserved to have a life.

The thought made her eyes well and her breath catch with surprise.

She deserved to have a life.

For so many years, she’d convinced herself that by leading Holden into that truck and leaving him behind on the Shenandoah, she didn’t deserve anything good. She deserved every dark, awful thing that befell her. But now, healing through the power of his love and forgiveness, she’d started forgiving herself. And right here, right now, she was giving herself permission to pursue a good life, and Sabrina McClellan was, as Maya had pointed out, offering it to her on a silver freaking platter.

She would always love Holden.

She would always want Holden.

But until she could have him, she was going to live the best-possible version of her life, and one day—hopefully one day—they’d find their way back to each other again.

The door to her room squeaked open, and she looked up to see Holden walking in, his dirty-blond hair slick and orderly. His lips—his beautiful lips that had loved her body with such tenderness and passion at the cabin—tilted up into an expectant grin as he drew closer, brandishing a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. They were mostly yellow and lavender like the wildflowers in the meadow where she’d fallen in love with him all over again and for the first time and forever. And as he handed them to her, her eyes flashed to his forearm, where she saw “H+G” etched into his skin and stained in black, right beside the rendering of her face. Her initials. Her face. Her heart beating in his chest. His beating in hers.

She took the flowers from him and smelled them with pleasure, but her eyes never left his, because after today she didn’t know when she would see him again, and aside from the pleasure she felt in his company, there was an aching urgency to remember every stolen second, so she could live on them when they were separated once again.

He seemed to search her face, scanning it slowly, and she felt the heat and tenderness in his gaze as he paused on her eyes, her cheeks, her lips.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.”

“I have until tomorrow morning at eight.”

“That’s more time than I thought.”

He was so big and stunningly beautiful. She knew how that body loved, how it moved as it loved her, how gentle it could be despite its strength. In ripped jeans and a T-shirt, all hard, strong man with tattoos covering his arms, it was a challenge to see the freckled, blond-haired boy who’d volunteered to walk to the store with her so long ago.

I’ll g-g-go t-too.

How far they’d come, together then apart.

How much farther they had to go, apart before together.

“Can you move over?” he asked, coming around to the side of the bed.

She moved very slowly and managed to make a little room for him.

“How’re your ribs?”

“They hurt.”

He slipped onto the bed beside her, putting his arm around her, and her whole body melted into his.

“What’d the doc say this morning? How much longer will you be here?”

“I can leave the day after tomorrow. The swelling in my head’s gone down a lot, but they want two more nights for observation, and they’ll do one more MRI before I’m discharged.” She looked up at him. “I got worried about the hospital bills. Jonah doesn’t have much. I’d need to go after his parents’ estate for the bills and I think it’s bankrupt. But then I found out the McClellans have taken care of everything.”

“They’re amazing,” said Holden. “I never knew rich people could be so . . . good.”

“They invited me to stay in this apartment they have at their house.”

He rubbed her arm, and she lowered her head to his chest, lining up her ear over his heart.

“That sounds great, Gris.”

“And I’ve been thinking about going to college this fall.”

“You should.”

“You think?”

“Hell, yes. Take those writing courses. Show your stories to someone. P-promise me you’ll go. No matter what.”

She nodded against his T-shirt. “I promise.”

She felt his lips touch down on her head, the soft smacking noise of them pursing and kissing her hair, and she closed her eyes, savoring his tenderness, trying to forget how little time they had left together.

“What about you?” she asked. “Back to Gemma? And the baby?”

He sighed. “Funny you ask . . .”

Her eyes opened, and she felt her eyebrows knit together. “Funny? How?”

“I’ve got some plans too.”

“Plans?”

“Uh-huh.”

She could hear it in his voice, even in those two little words. The hope. The expectation. She leaned back a little and looked up at his face. “Tell me.”

He dropped his lips to hers and kissed her gently, holding her upper lip between his for several seconds of sweetness before releasing it. “Someday I’m gonna do that whenever I want to.”

“Promise?”

He nodded solemnly, his gaze never flinching. “I promise, angel.”

A rush of relief filled her heart, washing away her previous worries about Gemma.

“Tell me your news, Holden.”

“I was useless when you left Charles Town, Gris. D-drinking. Hating Gemma. D-damn near hating my unborn baby. I couldn’t see a way out, a way to happiness. And it’s not that I deserve happiness, but I don’t want him or her to be ashamed of me. I don’t want you to be ashamed of me.”

“Holden, I could never—”

“Shhh,” he said, placing a finger over her lips. “Let me finish.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t want to be ashamed of me anymore. I want to do something with my life. And that’s because of you, Gris.” He swallowed, looking at her with so much love it was almost blinding, but she didn’t dare look away. “You made me want to live again.”

Her lips trembled, and a tear rolled down her cheek, but she didn’t interrupt him.

“You’re the girl, Gris. You’re it for me. I’ll do right by my child, but as soon as I can, I’m coming to find you. And when I do, I’ll have something to offer you. Something good. A good life. A life I’ll be proud of. A life you can be proud of.”

She searched his eyes, her heart flipping over with the same hope and expectation she’d heard in his voice. “Tell me.”

“I met a Marine recruiter yesterday. He told me all about the Marines, and last night, while you were sleeping, I went on my phone and read everything I could. And Gris? It’s what I want. I want to learn how to fight for my country. I want to learn a skill. I want to make a difference. I want to make you proud.”

“I am,” she sobbed, her heart swelling with emotion for this man who’d been through so much but had found the courage and strength to do something positive with his life. “I’m already proud. I couldn’t be prouder, Holden.”

“I’m enlisting tomorrow, Gris.”

She stared up at him. It was a bold and decisive plan—to join the armed forces—but she could see in his face how much it meant to him. Every cell in her body wanted him to know how terribly proud she was, but one loose end that frightened her for him made her whisper, “Gemma . . .”

He placed his palm on her cheek, smiling at her tenderly.

“Gemma didn’t want me to be with you. And I won’t be. But I don’t want to be with her either. I can’t make her happy, and she can’t make me happy, because there’s only one woman in the world who I want, and I’m sorry, but it just isn’t Gemma.

“So, while she’s pregnant, I’ll stay away from you—I’ll be in boot camp, then training. I’ll have ten days off in November to go see her and the baby, and she’ll get regular money from me to take care of her expenses. She can have my apartment all to herself, and I will always do my duty by her and the child. But once that baby’s born and I’ve established my parental rights?” His eyes bored into hers, his expression fierce and unwavering. “I’m coming for you, Griselda Schroeder. You can bet I’ll be coming.”

Tears streamed down her face as she understood his plan. It wasn’t just for her or his child, but for them—for them to bear their separation and to have a real start at a real life together at its end.

“It’s true that I’ll be leaving you tomorrow morning, angel, but tomorrow isn’t an end. I swear to you with everything I am and everything that I’ll ever be: tomorrow is just the b-beginning. It’s the first day of a journey that ends with us together.”

“Together,” she sobbed softly, holding his gray eyes with her blue.

“Forever, Griselda. Once you’re mine, I’ll never let you go.”

“I already belong to you.”

He dropped his head, and his lips touched down on hers again, gently, then more insistently as his tongue parted the seam of her lips and swept into her mouth. She wanted to turn her body into his, but it hurt too much to move, so she kept her face upturned as he kissed her.

“And I’ve always been yours,” he whispered fiercely against her lips. “From the first day you smiled at me in the Fillmans’ upstairs hallway, holding a blue toothbrush and looking worried.”

“Will you write to me?” she asked.

He kissed her before sitting up and guiding her head to his heart. “I’d love to, and I will. But it just isn’t fair.”

“What isn’t?”

“You’re the writer. Your letters will be ten times better than mine.”

“Yours will be wonderful. Tell me what you’re doing, what it’s like, what you’re learning, who you meet. I want to know everything, Holden. I don’t want to miss a thing.”

“And you do the same,” he said, his voice certain and strong, love and hope infusing it with warmth. “Tell me all about Sabrina and Prudence, and keep me updated about Maya’s Twizzler habit. Tell me which college you choose, and send me stories, Gris. Promise you’ll send me stories I can read before I go to sleep at night. Prince Twilight, Princess Moonlight, Lady Starlight and the Sun King. They’re going to end up together, right?”

She shook her head, refusing to give away spoilers. “I’ll send them. I promise.”

“And when I go to sleep at night,” he said, turning over the arm he had draped around her shoulders to reveal their initials, “I’ll keep my fingers over the letters. Always. Every night.”

Me too, she thought, looking carefully at his tattoo and making a decision to get her own, so that she could go to sleep every night with her fingers over the letters too.

“We’re going to make it, Gris,” he said.

“I jump, you jump,” she answered.

“Only this time,” he said, pressing his lips to her hair, “we’ll b-both make it to the other side.”