48
Hummingbird
EVE’S BIKE ATE THE pavement. She didn’t bother with blinkers or inconvenient road signs. She just flew—weaving in and out of traffic. Most of the other drivers didn’t even register her presence until she was long gone.
The routine she’d established in the last few months would be broken today. She’d have nothing more to report to Beckett. Blake and Eve had made an unlikely pair on his quest for freedom from his paralyzing fear, but this had been her last morning with her cousin.
Soon after Blake had moved into her father’s building, Eve had been back to check on him—at Beckett’s request. Beckett had been crawling the walls with his desperate need for his brothers’ companionship, so Eve was to be his eyes.
She’d entered the apartment building and gone downstairs to find Livia standing just inside Blake’s apartment door, her hand on the knob, ready to leave.
“Blake, I need to make the time. Dr. Lavender said a little at a time, every day, would be the way to go.” Livia seemed angry with herself.
Eve’s silent ways made eavesdropping part of her personality. She scarcely breathed. She noticed a crack in the hallway had been puttied over and painted, no doubt by Blake the handyman.
“You have too much going on,” Blake insisted. “I can do this on my own, really. I’ll try tomorrow. I will.” Blake’s voice sounded shaky.
Eve heard what had to be a gentle kiss.
“You said that about today,” Livia added softly. “No, don’t look at me like that; I’m so proud of you. This is a huge task, and I want to help.”
The rustling of clothes had to be a hug.
“I never want to disappoint you, Livia.” Blake sounded stronger now, determined, but still anxious.
“That’s not possible. Ever. God, I have to go. The test is tomorrow, and I haven’t even looked at the material.”
Livia stepped backward into the hall. Eve slid into the cover of another doorway.
“You should definitely go,” Blake said. “Will you please call me when you get home? So I know you’re safe?” He closed the door behind them and walked with Livia down the hall and up the stairs, presumably to her car.
Eve watched silently, and unseen, as they passed, wondering if now was really a great time to be Beckett’s nosy emissary. A few minutes later Blake walked past her hiding place in a furious, stomping rage. She was still debating with herself about visiting when she heard a crash. She arrived instantly at Blake’s slightly open door.
“Goddammit! Man up and do this. Just do it. How can she be with me? I can’t even…I won’t try hard enough.”
He was utterly defeated. Eve knew it without having to see the slope of his shoulders.
She pushed the door open, and it creaked on its hinges. Blake whirled and was instantaneously relived. Eve knew he’d been afraid he’d find Livia. She looked from Blake to the water glass he’d thrown against the wall. He must be seriously twisted up; he treated everything in the apartment like it belonged in a museum.
“Beckett says hi. Can I come in?” Eve waited until he nodded.
“Eve, I apologize for this broken glass. It’s an extremely disrespectful way to treat these belongings.” Blake fetched his broom and dustpan, kneeling to gather the destroyed kitchenware.
“Dude, I blew up Beckett’s strip mall. I’m not judging.” Eve strolled into his kitchen behind him, listening to the tinkle of broken glass as it found its resting place in the trash.
Blake lifted one eyebrow. He’d been in Beckett’s world too long to be shocked by destruction. He put the broom away and faced Eve.
“Hey, I overheard part of your conversation with Livia.” She tried to sound friendly.
Blake shook his head. “Yeah. I’m not doing so great at getting used to the sun.” His hands were restless. “It’s supposed to be little steps at a time, but I…”
Eve nodded. “I’m going to come tomorrow morning. We’re going to get a cup of coffee at the place down the road. We’ll walk, so be ready.” Eve watched as he calculated the shadows, sun, and shade on the way to Cup O’ Joe’s.
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you. Thank you for the offer, though.” Blake held his own clenched fist.
Eve waited. They both looked around the kitchen. Blake cleared his throat.
“It’s not an offer. I’m going to be here,” she said. “We’re going for a walk. Real simple.” She watched as he changed his fingers’ grip, once, twice, three times.
He needed convincing.
“Hey, I’m not your girlfriend. I’m no one you can disappoint. I’ll just make sure we work through the fear that keeps you in the dark. Plus it’ll be good exercise after the gunshot wound and all.”
Blake looked at the ceiling and blew out a breath. “Why, Eve? Why would you do this for me?”
His suspicious eyes found her face again. That question caught her off guard. She pulled herself up to sit on the counter. Of course—Blake hadn’t known her before David’s accident. He had no idea she’d once honestly liked helping people.
“I used to be a human being,” Eve said. “I used to care if people lived or died.” She thought of Mouse and knew her emotions were not entirely buried. “You puttied the crack in the hall. You’re letting my dad be a part of your life. I owe you, and this—helping you get coffee? I can do. You’ll have to trust me.” She hopped off the counter and held out her hand.
Blake stared, and instead of shaking it, he opened a drawer, retrieved a velvet ring box, and placed it in her extended hand. She opened it while Blake watched the box like it was a bomb. Inside was Eve’s great-grandmother’s engagement ring. She’d know it anywhere. Great Gran wore it every day of her fifty-eight years married to Eve and Blake’s great-grandfather. She’d left it to Ted.
“Ted gave that to me,” Blake said. “But I want you to have it. It was your great-grandmother’s.” He watched her carefully.
Eve took the ring out of the velvet slit that held it tightly. A shiver ran through her body. She jammed it back into its box and snapped it shut. The small, perfect diamond had taken a bite out of her soul. She tossed the box back to Blake. He caught it, looking puzzled.
“I can’t wear that. I won’t wear that.” Eve turned her back on Blake. “I can’t wear stuff like that in my line of work.”
Blake said nothing, letting the silence ask his questions. Eve realized she was expecting a lot from him. She wanted him to trust her in the sun, so she’d have to do something that scared her as well. Time to show Blake what was left of her tiny, crumpled pink heart.
“I was going to wear that once. It was going to be mine. My boyfriend and I would have gotten married.” She turned to see his reaction.
He was waiting patiently.
“David died in a car crash. It’s a—he was my future, you know?”
It was the way he received her pain that made her tell him more. He looked at her intently, like what she told him would be part of him forever.
“I was pregnant with his baby. She died too.” Eve shrugged, but her wet eyes betrayed her casualness.
Blake took the distance in two quick strides and enveloped her. Eve’s stiff body was ill-prepared for the hug. But Blake held on until she softened against his chest.
“The sun’s on the inside sometimes, huh?” He patted her back.
Eve patted his in return. “It burns in there.”
Finally they parted, and Blake found Eve a tissue.
“Well, I can’t very well give this to Livia,” he said matter-of-factly, looking at the box on the counter.
“You’re getting engaged?” Eve smiled at the thought of Blake and Livia.
“I want to, but I don’t know if I have any right to ask her.” Blake tucked the ring back into its drawer. “Your dad talked me into accepting this ring in a weak moment. He got me talking about my future and—”
Eve interrupted, imitating her father’s voice and stance. “Don’t put off happiness you can have today. Tomorrow is a hope, not a promise.”
Blake laughed. “Yes! Exactly. Glad to see it was a real original speech, just for me.”
“I hate to say this—ever—but my dad is right. I’ll tell you what, I wish I’d married David.” Eve’s eyes got a faraway look. “I wanted to wait until after the baby and when we’d saved up enough to have a real, big wedding.”
Blake was stoic as she picked the right words.
“But to have heard him say I do…” She trailed off and ran her hand through her hair.
Blake touched his heart, perhaps remembering his own brush with death.
“And that ring deserves another sixty years and more of love on it,” she said, gesturing toward the drawer. “I’d never say this out loud to anyone, but I guess we’re getting all touchy-feely: Livia? She’s the bravest chick I’ve ever met. Let her have it, Blake. Let her have what I never did.” Eve nodded and headed for his door.
She let him catch up to open it for her, knowing his chivalrous behavior gave him peace.
“I’ll be here tomorrow.” Eve patted his forearm.
Blake took a deep breath and nodded.
It took an entire week to actually get to Cup O’ Joe’s—even with the sun shields Livia had found for Blake. But Eve turned out to be just what he needed: a firm, uncompromising taskmaster. She always seemed to know how far to push him before she’d let him stop and try again the next day.
One day Beckett asked her what her trick was.
“His pupils,” she answered immediately. “When a man gets so scared he’s close to losing his mind, his pupils dilate.” She shrugged. “When he gets there, we get to shade.”
Over the next few weeks, Blake grew stronger and began to set aside his coverings. Now better able to see him, Eve studied him closely as they walked. His eyes never stopped watching the faces of those passing by. He seemed truly astounded that they had no reaction to the sight of him. They couldn’t see his past etched into his skin.
The day Blake finally made it to the coffee shop uncovered, he and Eve touched paper cups of steaming brew in a toast. And they talked for a long time about his mother and what had made his skin glass. Eve tried her best to listen for him the way he’d absorbed her story about David. He seemed to be gaining some perspective on his situation, which Eve believed to be as crucial as the minutes that ticked by with sun on his skin, right out in public.
As they left, Eve watched him slide the coffee sleeve off the drink and put it in his pocket.
After they’d walked a few blocks, she questioned him. “Why’d you keep the sleeve?”
Blake pulled out the cardboard and looked down at it. “Just to remember I could do it.”
Eve grabbed it from him quickly, ripped it in half, and threw it in a trashcan on the sidewalk. Blake held his hands up and gave her a What the hell? look.
“Don’t tie your success to anything other than what’s inside you.” She stepped up to him and gently patted his heart. “You did this, Blake. You. Not the coffee, not me, not Livia. You did this.”
Blake nodded. He motioned for her to continue walking, and she did.
Building up suited Eve much better than tearing down ever did. She recounted Blake’s careful steps for Beckett each day when she returned to him at the current safe house in the evenings. There was little else she could do to ease the frustration of his imprisonment, other than tend to the sexual beast in him.
A couple weeks later Blake worked up to walking to the coffee shop by himself—and most other places too. Eve had watched from behind a tree the afternoon she found him sitting on the patio, just basking in the sun. That very night Blake had proposed to Livia with their great-grandmother’s ring. And Livia had said yes.
Eve had been thrilled, with only a tinge of regret, as Blake recounted his betrothal and early wedding plans over their coffee that day. But now Eve grew uneasy. She had to tell Beckett there was another wedding to attend from a distance. Blake had refused to appoint anyone else as best man. He said it was Beckett’s place, whether he filled it or not. Cole would officiate.
Beckett would have to make some decisions, and this news might put him over the edge.
Beckett rode the four-wheel ATV over a huge mound of dirt, and the vehicle went airborne. His helmet slipped, nearly covering his eyes. He hated it, but he didn’t have a choice. Eve demanded the security and privacy it provided. Like anyone could find me here.
Eve had stashed him in Rhinebeck, New York, in a place off the road, off a driveway, then off a dirt path. The house had at least forty acres of woods surrounding it and very few neighbors. It belonged to some half-dead celebrity who never used it anymore. Eve paid the rent in cash, and the agreement was verbal. Beckett allowed himself the luxury of expecting this sort of perfection from her.
He pulled the ATV to a stop and unzipped the leather jacket he wore, revealing his shirtless, chiseled chest. No need to get dressed up. Only deer and chipmunks buttfucking each other out here in the boondocks.
He managed a smile, cracking himself up a little, as Eve pulled up on her motorcycle.
“How’s he doing?” he hollered as soon as she cut the engine.
Her eyes paused on his naked, damp chest. He made his pecs dance to get a smile. She looked away.
“It may technically be spring, but it’s cold out here, Beckett. What’s wrong with you?” Beckett just smirked, so Eve continued. “Blake’s doing great. He was in the sun for hours today. Beckett, he asked Livia to marry him. He says you’re the best man. He says it’s your place and he’d rather have it empty than have anyone else.” She peeled off her riding gloves.
Beckett hung his head. The news hit him right in his heart’s nuts. Hungry for physical connection, he pushed himself into her personal space, corralling her with his arms against the bike.
“I got to get to town before the store closes. I just came back for the minivan,” she said quickly. “We don’t have time for this.” She didn’t push him away, but he could feel the chill rolling off her.
“No need to bruise my dick. It’s all good. Why don’t you get a steak? I’ll grill it.”
Eve did finally smirk a bit. “After the sun goes down it’s going to be twenty-eight degrees. You planning on grilling them with napalm?”
The change in her face made him try harder. “Fuck buying steaks. I’ll torch us some raccoon. I saw some back there.”
He pointed over his shoulder. Eve put a hand on his chest.
“Upstate raccoons will kick your ass,” she said, digging in with her nails. “They’d have you crying like a bitch and wearing a dress in no time.” Her hand traced the fine white scars she’d put on his skin during these two months of lying low.
He was insatiable these days. Beckett knew the time without social interaction was making him even more depraved and twisted. She’d been trying to convince him to leave the country with her—probably because she’d begun to fear he’d fuck her to death.
But as attractive as a tropical island alone with Eve might be, Beckett knew he could never go. He couldn’t be that far from his brothers. What if one of them needed him? What if Eve’s dad needed her? Family was family.
Beckett was so fucking proud of his lady and his brother. His heart threatened to swell out of his chest whenever he thought of her patiently, diligently working to get Blake into the sun. He just wished it could have been him. Maybe he’d send Eve to be Blake’s fucking best man. Jesus. He grabbed his helmet and thought for a moment about chucking it as far as it could go, but instead he stuffed his jealousy deep inside and turned to walk with Eve back to the safe house.
Just one month later, as May began, the next wedding date arrived. Once Blake had conquered the sun, he let nothing hold him back from creating the life he’d always wanted. Livia and Blake had worked quickly to arrange their train-platform nuptials, and when Livia had suggested a wedding after dark, Blake shook his head. He’d insisted the ceremony be held in the full beauty of the sunset.
Eve dressed quietly after lunch that afternoon, choosing the same dress and hummingbird pin she’d worn to Cole and Kyle’s wedding. As she checked her hair in the bedroom mirror, he appeared behind her. Beckett wore a crisp, white button-down shirt and jeans. They’d agreed he would stay home and watch the live feed again.
“Why did you pick a hummingbird for the camera?” He reached around and touched the gold wings. “’Cause they’re so cute and pretty?”
He dared to tease her on this day, this twisty, pointy, dangerous day.
“They’re vicious loners,” she said quietly, speaking to her reflection. “Did you know that? They spend most of their time alone, protecting what’s theirs.”
Beckett’s forehead wrinkled. “Is that how you see you?”
She shrugged. “It’s what I am. What I am now.”
She knew regret shone in her eyes before she closed them, and Beckett took a step back. She could sense the guilt rolling off of him and opened her mouth to speak when the high-pitched whine of one of her tripwires pierced the heavy atmosphere.
She kicked off her heels and had a gun in her hand before the alarm stopped. She nodded at Beckett, and he went to the closet to wait. They’d been through the drill before: a slow deer, a meter reader, a hunter.
He turned to watch her slide by him. He leaned against the doorframe. He didn’t want to hide any more. His brother was finally out in the fucking sunlight, and here he was cowering from what might be a fat squirrel. He heard Eve trot down the stairs and exit the house through the back door. She was a machine, really. She knew all the right moves. She was a hummingbird. No, not really. She’s a freaking happy canary that I’ve squeezed into a rubber hummingbird costume.
Beckett heard barking. He sidestepped his way to the window he should have been avoiding and stood behind the sheer. He watched as a dopey-looking beagle sniffed and skittered its way onto the front lawn. He heard another high-pitched whine. The alarm had sounded again.
He stepped to the center of the window and had to scan the lawn to find Eve. Her blond ponytail was the only thing he could see. She was behind a tree for cover. Beckett hit the window with one knuckle. Her eyes found the noise he made instantly. He pointed to his ear and held up two fingers.
She nodded once and gave him a glare that clearly said, “Get back in the fucking closet.”
He ignored her and stepped behind the sheer again. Up the rocky path pedaled the most unlikely of assassins. A little girl about six years old pumped her chubby legs on a pink-and-white bike. The tassels on the handlebars swung in a steady rhythm, and she had a stuffed dolphin crammed in the basket in front of her.
The little girl was freaking adorable. Beckett watched through the murky sheer as Eve put the safety on her gun and knelt to hide it behind a root of the tree. She seemed to stay on her knee a moment, catching her breath. That’s a first. Beckett was mesmerized by Eve’s reaction. He carefully slid the window open a crack so he could hear their conversation.
The beagle bounded over to the now unarmed Eve, tongue lolling. Eve offered her hand for the dog to sniff, which it did and then took off in another direction.
“Peanut! No! Bad dog, come back. Lady! Lady, grab him!” The little girl had an even more adorable voice.
Why the hell is she out here in the middle of nowhere? She’s so fucking little.
Eve looked at her new self-appointed boss. “Did he run away?”
Her voice was so warm. Achingly warm. Beckett almost didn’t recognize it.
The little girl stopped her bike and took an elaborate, deep breath. “Peanut is not a good dog. He ran away when I tried to put my sister’s dress on him. He likes to run away. Mommy said, ‘Go get Peanut!’ So I went to go get Peanut, and he saw a bunny and took off down the road, and my sister’s crying, and she’s just a baby. I’m a big sister. I know how to give her a bottle, and Mommy says I’m a big help. Peanut! Don’t poop! Oh, I’m sorry, lady. He’s just on a streak of bad.”
Beckett stepped from behind the curtain so he could see Eve’s face clearly. He knew she was beautiful, but the smile on her face for this little girl made him grab the windowsill.
Eve was magnificent. Her eyes were soft, her body language welcoming. Her guard was not only down, it was gone. In just a few sentences, this child had broken through to the Eve he’d only seen hints of.
Eve got down to the girl’s level. “What’s your name?”
The big-eyed girl had the audacity to bounce her pigtails while she recited her full name: “Emily Anna Whiteside.”
Anna. Beckett watched as Eve’s chest caved ever so slightly with the blow.
She recovered, as she always did, to deal with the task in front of her. “Hi, Emily. I’m Eve. There are no houses close by. How long have you been riding your bike?”
“It feels like hours. And I have to go potty, but I won’t give up. Peanut’s bad, but he’s mine.”
The unacceptable dog now licked his hindquarters with abandon a stone’s throw from where the two were getting to know one another.
“Okay, Emily. I’m sure your mom’s worried. I’ll get Peanut, and we’ll get you home.” Eve put her hand out like she might like to touch the top of the girl’s head, but she pulled it back at the last second.
Would soft hair hurt that much to touch? Beckett dropped to his knees, trying to see this tender Eve more closely.
Eve headed for the dog. “Here, Peanut. Here, boy.”
The dog trotted eagerly toward her, then veered away just as Eve got close.
The little girl laughed and scolded the dog at the same time. “Go, Eve, go! Peanut, stop.”
She dissolved into giggles. Like a husk of ice cracking and falling to the ground, the giggles changed Eve. She began exaggerating her movements to make the girl laugh, and she pretended to growl and bark at Peanut, who stopped and cocked his head to one side.
Little Emily had to hold her middle as Eve finally dove at the dog, tackling him efficiently. All dressed up for the wedding, Eve was now covered in clinging leaves and smudges of dirt. Emily clapped her hands at the sight of her beloved pooch captured and safe. As Eve knelt to get a better grip on the dog’s collar, she faced the house.
Maybe he could have changed his mind. Maybe he could have continued thinking only about himself. But Beckett had seen her face. He’d been looking at her eyes when the grateful girl reached up to give Eve a hug.
Emily was so excited she forgot. She was so happy she made a mistake and said, “Thank you so much, Mommy!”
Beckett watched baby Anna die all over again on Eve’s face. Her raw agony was worse than any bullet he’d ever taken. As the icy husk crystallized again around this beautiful woman, he made his decision, determined his future.
He watched as Eve took Emily in the front door, disappearing beneath him. Evil Peanut’s paws made regular clacks on the wood floor as Eve showed Emily the bathroom. Eve’s murmurs and the little girl’s bright-voiced answers decorated the house with life. Too soon Eve had loaded the little girl, her pink bike, and the wayward dog into his minivan.
After they’d pulled away Beckett found a blazer to wear over his shirt. He went out on the porch and waited in the rocking chair until she returned and parked the minivan just where it had been before.
Eve sat for a split second in the driver’s seat before she leaped out and slammed the door. He waited until she’d come to lean against the porch railing before he looked up at her face again.
“You can have that life,” he told her. “It’s right there for you to take.”
“I love you,” Eve quickly countered.
“Loving me hurts you, doesn’t it?” Beckett asked, looking down. “No, you don’t have to tell me. I know. I can smell it. I can smell the pain coming off of you,” he said, looking at the floor. “You had love before and a future. What does loving me get you, Eve? What does it get you?” He stood, angry with himself.
“I don’t need to get anything from you. It’s the way it is. There’s no changing that.” She gripped the porch railing.
Beckett stepped close to Eve and tenderly tucked a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear.
“You’re saying goodbye,” she said, her eyes full of questions.
“Do you know there are other little girls out there like that one? I lived with a few of them. They would sell their souls for a mother like you.”
At the word mother Eve’s chin crumpled. She tried to hold back the tears, but they wouldn’t obey.
“See that? It’s what you need. You need that—a little kid calling you Mom.” Beckett put his arms around her as she shattered.
The pain she kept hidden surfaced from where it had been smoldering. When he felt her knees weaken, he hugged her harder.
“That’s right. It’s okay. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, baby. You want normal.” He guided her to the chair he’d vacated. “There’s a guy out there who’ll hold your hand. There’s a little girl out there. She’s waiting for you. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.” He knelt in front of her and rubbed her arms.
She slapped at his hands, letting outrage carry her words. “I don’t want another man. I want you. I’ve killed for you. I’ve protected you. What the hell do you think you’re doing? Do you honestly think these hands that kill can hold a child?” She held her fingers in front of her face.
“Yes. Absolutely. Don’t you know, gorgeous? Mothers are some of the most vicious killers out there, if their kids are threatened. You just have more practice.” He took her hands and kissed them.
“I’ve lost too much. I can’t lose you. Don’t make me. Please. I’ll beg you if I have to.” She watched his lips on her palms.
He shook his head and used her own words against her. “The hardest part of loving someone is not being with them when you want to be.”
He stood, and she mirrored his motion, already shaking her head. “Don’t say it.”
Beckett ignored her; he knew what he had to do. He had to set beautiful Eve free to find that soft, touchable woman he’d seen her become with the little girl.
“I’m going to my brother’s wedding. I’m his best man.” He straightened his jacket.
“They’ll arrest you. That’s a wonderful present for him.” She wiped tears off her face.
“Did you notice he can walk in the sun now, and I can’t?” Beckett lifted an eyebrow.
“I can change that for you. We can get away—the money’s there. Let’s go. We’ll go now.” Eve grabbed his lapels.
He covered her hands. “And what happens when we get far away from here and your eyes start to glaze over again? What happens when a little girl loses her dog? Do you think I ever, ever want to see that pain in your eyes again? It was like I was shooting you myself.” He looked down at their feet and back up at her again.
“Where would I get a kid for us, Eve? No one would let me adopt. Christ, I wouldn’t let me adopt. You can get out of this free and clear. You will get out of this free and clear. It’s my last order to you. Have a good fucking life. Promise? I’ll beg you if I have to.” He put his big hands on her cheeks.
Time ticked by as they stood at the edge. Beckett knew he was right. She wanted the kids. She wanted the normal—sticky waffle breakfasts and runaway dogs and a minivan that spilled Barbie dolls when the door opened. She wanted it so very much. He just needed her to accept that.
“I can’t watch you get arrested.” She finally dared to look in his eyes.
He nodded. “Then you can’t come, can you, baby?”
She said nothing. Her breath was shaky.
“Know this: I love you so fucking much,” Beckett said. “No other person has been to me what you are. No one else ever will be.” He leaned down and gave her the sweetest, gentlest kiss.
He wanted her to know what she should expect from the next guy, what she should demand. And because he needed it once more, he tried to make her smile. “Though the first dude to give me the Prison Shocker will be a close second.”
She shook her head and showed a ghost of a smile.
“I’m taking your bike ’cause you’re going to need the minivan for all those kids.” He winked and willed himself to smile at her.
Before he could change his mind, Beckett got on her bike. He fired it up and let it sit for a minute. After he’d committed her face, this moment, this heartbeat to memory, he obediently put on the helmet. Then he turned the bike and headed toward the road, intent on Poughkeepsie.
She watched as the dirt kicked up in a cloud. When it cleared, she couldn’t see him anymore. She stayed until she couldn’t hear him anymore.
Staying.
Not chasing.
Not stopping him.
She knew she could bring him back. She was more than capable, and yet her feet refused to move. It felt like the little arms that had encircled her neck still clung there.
Was it my Anna? Was her name just a coincidence?
Eve hated that she had these questions, and that the only man she wanted to talk to about them was David. Have I just forsaken Beckett?
Roots continued to form. Her murderous hands remembered how satisfying clicking the seatbelt around Emily’s small body had been. It sounded just like releasing the safety on a gun. Could motherhood be even a tiny possibility?
Her inaction chose her future.