It was close to 7:00 P.M. when Leigh Ann drove up a narrow but paved street in a small housing development just east of Kirtland Central High School, along old Highway 64.
“Okay, we’re here. The house number matches, so this is where Irene Largo lives, according to Del. I knew that name sounded familiar. Del dated one of the Largo girls a while back,” Leigh Ann said, pulling into the driveway of a modest stucco home with a metal roof and decorative window shutters. A light blue minivan was parked close to the door, and, as she stopped, someone parted a window curtain and looked out.
While Leigh Ann walked around to help Melvin out, the front door of the house opened and a Navajo woman in her mid-thirties came out onto the concrete stoop. “May I help you?” she asked, reaching out to grab a small child trying to squeeze past.
“Back inside, sweetie,” the woman said to the child. “Irene, could you take Amy?”
“Coming.” It was the voice of a teenage girl. Hearing it, Leigh Ann gave Melvin’s hand a squeeze as he stepped out of the Jeep.
“Mrs. Largo? I’m Leigh Ann Vance, and this is my friend, Melvin Littlewater. We’re the people Del Hudson called you about. Could we speak to you and your daughter Irene for a few minutes?”
Leigh Ann heard a gasp and turned to see a tall, slender Navajo girl with long black hair standing on the porch, her arms wrapped around the little one. She was staring at Melvin like she’d seen a ghost.
“Mom, it’s him! He’s the man I saw on top of the truck in the canal that night.”
* * *
Five minutes later, Melvin and Leigh Ann were seated on a love seat facing the sofa where Irene and her mom sat. In the middle was the little girl, who was clutching a stuffed dog and staring at the strangers.
“It was after dinner and dark outside, and I was walking home from Kathy’s house, remember, Mom?” Irene said.
The woman nodded. “My old Chevy wouldn’t start, so I was waiting for Irene’s father to come home so we could go pick her up,” Mrs. Largo explained, then looked at her daughter, and added, “You should have stayed at Kathy’s, like I told you.”
“I know, but I had that project to finish before I went to bed, and I’d walked along the ditch tons of times before,” Irene said.
“Never in the dark, alone, with no flashlight or cell phone,” her mother added.
“Okay, now I know better. Anyway, I was walking down the ditch bank and a truck drove past me on the highway. Then a car raced by, passing the truck like it was standing still. But the guy in the car cut back too soon and crashed right into the truck, knocking it off the road and into the canal. The guy in the car also lost control, flipped, and it went over the guardrail. It ended up in the canal, upside down and pinned up against one of those big floodgates. It was weird, because the headlights on the car were still on. I could see the truck floating down the ditch, too, about to smash into the car.”
Leigh Ann could see Irene’s hands shaking. She could tell that Melvin’s shoulders were rigid and tense. Leigh Ann put her hand on his arm, silently supporting him.
“That was you in the truck, right, Mr. Littlewater?”
“Yes. At least I wasn’t upside down,” Melvin said.
“I was running toward the accident when I saw you climb out the window and up onto the roof of the truck’s cab,” Irene said. “I tried to wade in, but the sides of the ditch were too steep.”
“You almost fell in,” he said.
“I wanted to help but I couldn’t reach you,” she said, choking back a sob.
“It’s okay Irene, you did everything you could. You were only what, ten or eleven?” Melvin said gently.
“She was eleven,” Mrs. Largo responded. “And when she couldn’t find help, she turned around and ran home.”
“I could hear cars stopping to see what was going on, but because the headlights on the car that was in the water had gone out, I was afraid no one would spot you and you’d drown. I thought if I could get home in a hurry, Mom and Dad could do something.”
“When Irene ran up the driveway, my husband and I were already in our pickup, about to go looking for her,” Mrs. Largo said. “Irene jumped in, soaked to her knees, and told us about the accident. On the way there I called 911. I was told that the deputies and emergency personnel were already on the scene. Traffic was backed up ahead, so we turned around and came back home.”
Melvin nodded. “You never told the sheriffs’ department that Irene had been there.”
“No, it was already over, and we wanted to keep her out of it. Later, we read in the newspaper that the driver of the car had drowned and that you, Mr. Littlewater, had survived but were blind.”
“I had nightmares about that accident for a long time,” Irene said in a shaky voice.
Mrs. Largo nodded. “She’d wake up screaming and crying. It took her almost a year to get back to normal.”
“I’m glad you made it and that you’re okay, well, except for…” Irene stopped. “I’m sorry. That was really stupid.”
“Don’t feel bad. I’m okay, and although I lost my sight, being blind has made me aware of things I might never have noticed otherwise.” Melvin squeezed Leigh Ann’s hand. “We should go now.”
* * *
Leigh Ann drove in silence, looking over at Melvin from time to time. He hadn’t said a word since they’d left the Largo home. She had been silent as well, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts. Now he had closure, but she wasn’t sure if that had brought him the peace he’d wanted.
“Are you okay?” she asked at last.
“Yes, for the first time in years, I am. Thank you for helping me close this door once and for all. Now I can finally move on.”
“My turn’s coming soon, too, I feel it. Once the police find Pierre, I’ll be able to breathe again.”
“Then it’ll be our turn.”
She couldn’t imagine life without Melvin. He completed her in ways no one ever had. If only she’d told him the other day when she’d finally learned about her role in his accident.
“Where are we off to now?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
“Before we head back to your place I want to make a stop at my house. I need to pick up a few more tops and slacks,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’ll be quick.”
“Just remember to stay alert. The danger’s not over yet.”
* * *
Melvin was at the dining table, drinking one of Rachel’s diet Cokes, when Leigh Ann came down the stairs with a small overnight case containing fresh clothing. “Let me change purses, then I’ll be ready to go. I want my largest tote. It’ll hold the .38 better, and until Pierre’s caught, I want it handy.”
“My guess is he’s on his way to Mexico by now, but you can’t afford to get complacent.”
As she put the contents of her purse into her tote, she picked up her keys, then realizing she still had two spares for the old locks, decided to take them off the key chain.
“Sounds like you’ve got quite a collection of keys,” Melvin commented. “I only have one—my house key.”
“I usually carry the Outpost keys, the key to the Jeep, one to Rachel’s car, your house key, and mine. The only important key I don’t carry is the one that belonged to Kurt. That one’s in the kitchen drawer with the flatware. No one would look there for it. I still haven’t been able to figure out what it’s for, but eventually I’m sure I will.”
“It doesn’t fit the metal box you found in the attic, the one that almost got you shot?” Melvin asked, putting down his Coke.
“No. It was inside that box, though.”
“Describe the key to me.”
“It’s small, about an inch and a half long, too small for a house lock or a car. It’s also brass, not steel or aluminum, and had the number zero fifty-five on it.”
“Is it stamped, like a trunk key?”
“No. I know the kind you mean, but this is more upscale. Here, feel it,” she said, taking it out of the drawer and putting it in his hand.
“Hmmm. This is for a more expensive lock, maybe a drawer in a nice desk, or to a cabinet. It hasn’t been used much because the notches are sharp. The lock is more complex, with the notches differently spaced from each other and there are three grooves, all in different places, two on one side, one on the other,” he said, handing it back to her. “Where did you try this key?”
“I tried it on everything I could think of here in the house, and a couple of places in the garage, but got nowhere. The locks out there are all the same kind, and this one is obviously for a different type.”
“Did Kurt spend a lot of time in the garage?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “There’s a ring of keys just for his stuff out there, with numbers he etched on them that indicate which lock they fit. I keep it with the kitchen utensils. There’s no number fifty-five out there either. They range from one to twenty.”
“This must fit something you haven’t tried yet, then,” Melvin said. “Is it a fancy garage with lots of storage cabinets?”
“Yeah, it is. He practically lived out there.”
“Then the missing cash may be hidden there somewhere, too. Why don’t we try to find another lock?”
“I’ve already checked, but okay,” she said, reaching for the garage key ring in the drawer with the spatula and other big utensils. “A treasure hunt is always more fun with a friend.”
“Arrgh, twice as much fun. You’ve got a pirate with a patch over both eyes,” Melvin said. They both laughed freely for the first time in days.
Taking his hand, Leigh Ann led Melvin into the two-car garage, which was extra roomy today with no vehicles inside. She began to flip switches to turn on the lights, explaining as she did. “There’s an overhead fluorescent fixture out here, plus Kurt installed lamps over the wide counter that runs the length of the north wall. I sold his big table saw, drill press, and lathe when I needed money for some of the bills, but the garage is still full of man toys. Right now the counter holds power tools, like saws, drills, and a leaf blower. There’s also a pegboard with hand tools hung on various hooks.”
“Where are the cabinets in reference to the counter?” he asked. “Above or below?”
“Both, and they all have locks,” she said. “Rachel and I looked inside those already.”
“Did you open everything you found inside there?”
“Mostly, yes, but there were a few toolboxes and containers we didn’t bother with for one reason or another. Also, we were afraid of spiders.”
“Let’s go through everything now—again.”
“What about spiders?”
“Shine the light in first, and put on some gloves, just to be safe,” he suggested.
She did, but all she found in the top cabinets were small tools, nails and screws, and containers holding sandpaper, steel wool, paintbrushes, rollers, and other hardware items. Leigh Ann narrated as she went, so Melvin knew what was going on. Then she started on the bottom cabinets, working right to left.
“The first cabinet has no lock. Inside, all I can see are gallon paint cans, stacked two high. Kurt would always save leftover paint, planning to use it for touch-ups or second or third coats.”
“Start looking in the cabinets themselves. Is there anything that doesn’t seem to belong, or looks like a recent repair?”
She aimed the flashlight around the cabinet interior. “There’s a raised back panel and, hold on, I think I see a place for a key on the inside corner. Then again, it might just be a small rodent hole; I can’t get a clear enough aim with the flashlight. I’d need to get these paint cans out of the way first.”
“Hand them to me and I’ll set them aside,” Melvin said.
Leigh Ann got down on her knees and removed the cans one at a time. Melvin took them and within a few minutes they’d set all twelve paint cans onto the garage floor.
“There is a locked panel set into the back of the cabinet,” Leigh Ann said, excited now. “Melvin, let me give you the flashlight, I’ll tell you where to aim it, and we’ll see if the key fits.”
After a few seconds of guiding his hand, the light was positioned on the metal keyhole.
“Perfect, now don’t move,” she said.
Leigh Ann inserted the key and pulled open the hinged door. “Crap! After all this, it’s empty. Not even a cobweb,” she said, looking closely, then closing it back up again.
“Guess somebody got to it first,” Melvin said.
“I’ve had it. That money’s meant to stay lost,” she said. “Let’s go get dinner. Are you hungry?”
“Yeah, starved,” he said, stepping back. His foot bumped against one of the paint cans.
“Let’s put these back first. Hand them to me one by one, okay?” she asked.
“Good idea,” he said, handing her the can he’d kicked. Leigh Ann slid it back inside the cabinet and reached for the next can.
Melvin was holding the second paint can with a funny look on his face. “This can is awfully light, and I felt something shift inside this when I picked it up. There’s something solid in there, but liquid paint flows and dried paint shouldn’t be moving at all. You’d better check it out.”
“Let me get something to pry the lid off with.” She hurried over to the pegboard, grabbed a screwdriver, then returned and opened the can.
“Green everywhere,” she said in an awed whisper, “and I don’t mean paint.”
“Greenbacks, maybe?”
“More cash than I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s in tight rolls of twenties, fifties, and even hundreds. This is it, Melvin, the mother lode.”
“We’d better check out the rest of the cans,” he said. “More than one of them felt pretty light, but until now I was thinking it was just leftovers saved for touch-ups.”
Five minutes later they walked back into the living room area carrying four gallon paint cans, each stuffed with rolls of bills fastened with rubber bands.
Leigh Ann lowered the cans she was carrying onto the carpet beside the sofa. “I’m going to call Dale. He’ll know what needs to be done next. I imagine the lab will want to check the cans for prints. At least I still had gloves on and we knew to stop touching the sides and tops after we found the first stash.”
“Call, then afterwards we’ll celebrate with a nice dinner. Then I can show you the sculpture,” Melvin said cheerfully, putting down the two containers he was carrying before edging his way over to the sofa and sitting down.
“Sounds wonderful,” she whispered, listening as the phone rang at the other end.
Dale didn’t pick up the call, so Leigh Ann left a voice mail. “Dale, we found some stolen money. I’ll stick around at home for another half hour in case you want to come pick it up. If I don’t hear from you before then, I’ll drop it off by the sheriff’s office on my way to Melvin Littlewater’s house. I don’t want to be responsible for it any longer than I have to. Call me as soon as you can, okay?” She put down the phone.
“Leigh Ann, you don’t know when he’ll check his messages. Unless you also notify Detective McGraw, he’s going to be pissed thinking you’re deliberately shutting him out of this. You’d be better off letting him share the credit. You really don’t need an enemy in the sheriff’s department right now.”
“Maybe you’re right. Let me get his business card out of my tote.”
Suddenly Melvin stood up, holding his finger to his mouth in a gesture of silence.
“Someone’s outside,” he whispered, pointing across the room toward the patio, which was adjacent to the kitchen and dining area.
Leigh Ann looked over just as a glass panel shattered on one of the French doors. Seeing a hand reach through, groping for the doorknob, she screamed. The .38 was in her tote bag on the dining room table, which was sitting less than six feet from where the intruder was trying to gain entry.
“You bitch! You’re going to pay for ruining my life,” Pierre Boone spat out. Struggling to turn the lock, he cut his hand on a jagged piece of glass and cursed as blood flowed, marring the white doorframe.
“Out the front,” Leigh Ann told Melvin, flinching as more glass broke and splintered.
Grabbing Melvin’s hand, she’d only taken a step when a gun went off and a bullet struck the wall just ahead of her. She turned to see Pierre aiming his pistol at them through the broken pane. She jumped back just before another bullet struck even closer to them, lodging in the wall.
“Upstairs,” she whispered, leading Melvin as she dialed 911 with one hand. Pierre fired again, shattering the mirror above the sofa.
As they reached the second story, her call connected and she spoke quickly to the dispatcher even as she pulled Melvin down the hall to her bedroom. The second they were both inside, Leigh Ann closed the door behind them and turned the key in the lock.
There was a loud crash downstairs. Pierre had probably given up on the lock and kicked open the door. It was dark in the bedroom, but Leigh Ann knew the layout by heart. Moving quickly, she led Melvin to the dresser.
“Help me push this against the door,” she said, putting his hand on the top. They both leaned into the effort and inched the chest into place.
Hearing uneven footsteps coming slowly up the stairs, like Pierre was limping, she unplugged a brass table lamp and stood on one side of the door, ready to use the lamp as a club if Pierre managed to get in. She’d lost track of Melvin, but before she could locate him her attention was diverted by the sound of the bedroom doorknob rattling. A second later, wood splintered, but the door only gave a few inches.
Leigh Ann heard Pierre grunting, trying to overcome the weight of the dresser. She was afraid it was only a matter of seconds before he got in.
“Pierre, take the money, all of it,” Leigh Ann yelled through the door. “Kurt hid it in those paint cans downstairs. Take it and run while there’s still time. I called the sheriff, and the deputies are on their way.”
“I’ll leave, but not before you’re dead. You took everything from me. Now you’ll pay,” Pierre yelled, slamming against the door again and opening it farther.
He’d moved so silently she hadn’t realized that Melvin was beside her until he reached across and pushed the bedroom door shut. Crouching down, his foot blocking the door, he quickly pushed the dresser away, then stepped back.
Leigh Ann instantly figured out what he was hoping to do and moved away, watching the door, ready to jump Pierre and try to grab the gun once he broke through.
She could hear him breathing out in the hall. Then he grunted and rushed the door, slamming into it with full force. The door flew open and Pierre stumbled in, off balance from the sudden lack of resistance.
Melvin lunged forward, tackling Pierre at the knees. “Got you now, bastard!”
Leigh Ann swung the brass lamp at Pierre’s head and caught him on the back of the neck. Pierre yelled in pain and fell facedown onto the carpet, the pistol flying out of his hand. Melvin was now on top of Pierre, hanging on to him with both arms.
As the men wrestled on the floor, Leigh Ann spotted the pistol by the edge of the bed and grabbed it. She aimed the semiauto at the head of the man responsible for her husband’s death. “Stop struggling and lie still, Pierre, or I’ll blow the top of your head clean off!”
“You won’t shoot me, you don’t have the balls,” Pierre said, trying to break free from Melvin’s grip.
Melvin punched Pierre in the jaw. When the man fell back, Melvin pinned him down with an iron grip on his foe’s biceps and a knee to his thigh, which was stained with blood. Pierre groaned, blood seeping from what looked like a bullet wound.
Leigh Ann jammed the barrel of the gun into his neck. “I’ll kill to protect the ones I love,” she said, her voice vibrating with deadly intent.
Suddenly there was a loud crash downstairs—the sound of splintering wood as another door was kicked in. “Leigh Ann! Where are you?” It was Dale.
“Upstairs! We’ve got Pierre. Hurry!” she yelled.
Melvin looked in her direction and grinned. “Nice going, beautiful.”
Her hand was shaking so badly she was afraid she’d pull the trigger by mistake, so she moved her index finger aside and took the gun away from Pierre’s neck. “What makes you think I’m beautiful?” she teased halfheartedly.
“’Cause I see with my heart.”
There were quick footsteps in the hall and a second later Dale appeared, weapon in his hand. He flipped on the room lights and took in the scene.
“You guys have the worst dates ever,” Dale said, putting away his pistol and bringing out his handcuffs. “Next time, why don’t you just take in a movie?”
* * *
Dinner wound up being sandwiches from the vending machine at the police station while they gave their statements. Once they were done, Leigh Ann drove them directly to Melvin’s home, parked, and followed him inside.
This was the moment she’d looked forward to and now dreaded at the same time. Today, she’d see the sculpture, and after that, it would be time for her to keep her word. Whatever the consequences, there’d be no more secrets between them.
Melvin walked to the table where he kept the whiskey bottle. “I don’t need this half-empty reminder here anymore. I know who and what I am.” He held it out. “Enjoy it. My gift to you.”
She took it from his hands. “I’ll keep it just as it is—half full—a souvenir of the adventure of a lifetime.”
“Our adventure is only beginning—if you’ll allow it,” he said. “I’ve already had the sculpture fired, so I’m ready to show it to you. Are you ready to keep your end of our bargain—no more secrets?”
“I am,” she answered, amazed at how steady her voice sounded considering her heart was lodged in her throat.
He felt his way into the study and reached up onto the shelf behind his work desk. Removing the dust cover, he presented the sculpture to her.
She took it from him with trembling hands and sat down on the closest chair to study it. Twelve inches high, the figure was made up of two tones of porcelain clay, one-third cream, the other two-thirds a dark gray that was almost black. One of the things that caught her eye was that the line distinguishing light from dark wasn’t straight or easily delineated. It was a blend.
The sculpture represented a woman in a short, loosely fitting sleeveless dress. She was sitting on the ground, legs crossed, just to the right of a standing lynx. The woman was half turned to the right from waist up, her left hand resting on the animal’s shoulder, behind the animal’s head. The woman’s head was glancing back along her right shoulder. A curtain of windswept hair hid most of her features, and her right hand was up, clenched into a fist, as if making a challenge.
“It’s incredible,” Leigh Ann said in an awed whisper.
He sat next to her on the arm of the chair. “Lynx is the keeper of secrets. She knows many things, but seldom shares her knowledge. She also stands for purpose and action,” he said. “The figure’s left hand resting on the animal shows gentleness, the right, intent and willingness to fight.”
“She’s looking behind her, just like I’ve been,” she said in a near whisper.
“Yes, and although the darkness that follows her casts a long shadow, the light within her is too powerful to extinguish.”
“It’s who I am inside,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion.
“Do you like it?”
“It’s amazing, and the best piece you’ve ever done.”
“Good,” he said, and smiled, pleased. “I knew you’d never accept this as a gift, so, once I was satisfied with the original, I decided to make a smaller copy, a maquette that I actually finished,” he added, bringing the miniature sculpture out of a cabinet and handing it to her, taking back the larger work.
She looked at the piece now in her hands. It was as perfect as the other. “You’ve been working on two of them all along! I don’t know what to say. What an incredible gift.”
“The sculpture has my heart and your soul. We’re a part of each other now,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “No more secrets.”
Her throat tightened so much it ached. It was time. “All right, you deserve to know everything,” she said, and stepped out of his arms. Fear wound through her, almost choking the air out of her lungs, but after a minute to gather her courage, she took a deep, steadying breath, and began.
“Five years ago I was waitressing at the Bullfrog Tavern, and one night in particular the place was really packed. We were a waitress short, and to make it worse, a drunk at one of my tables was giving me a hard time.” Her voice trailed off as she saw Melvin’s body tense.
Leigh Ann began to tremble, but gathering her courage, forced herself to continue. “We’d been instructed to stop serving any patron who’d had too much to drink, ask for their car or pickup keys, and call a cab for them. When I tried to get his keys, the man insisted I get him just one more drink. After that, he promised he’d hand them over. I couldn’t serve him any more alcohol, so I decided to give him a cup of coffee instead.”
She paused for a moment, trying not to cry, but Melvin didn’t break the silence, just sat rock still, waiting, nodding his head slowly. He’d already guessed.
“What I should have done was get my manager, but I was still new at the job and worried the boss would think I couldn’t handle difficult customers.”
Melvin still hadn’t made a sound.
Biting back tears, she continued. “When I got back to the table with the coffee, he was gone. I ran out to the parking lot to try and find him but he’d already left. I forgot all about it until two days ago.”
Melvin nodded. “When we visited his parents?”
“Yes, his photo was on the wall in the Jonas entryway. The man I let get away that night was Ronald Jonas. Until that moment I’d never made the connection or seen his photo. He was the drunk I should have stopped the night of your accident.”
She looked at Melvin, expecting to see disgust on his face, but he simply stood.
Figuring he’d want her to leave, she went to get her purse. “I’ll go now.”
“Why?” he said.
There was no anger at all in his tone, only curiosity. Melvin wasn’t slow, but maybe it just hadn’t hit him yet. “Why? If I’d taken his keys, or gone to get my manager, you wouldn’t have been in that accident and lost your sight. I’m responsible for what happened to you and I’m so very sorry,” she said, her voice breaking on the last syllable.
Each second that ticked by felt like an eternity to her. She wanted to run out the door, but she owed him the chance to react.
“You’re not responsible for what happened, Ronnie Jonas was. You’d tried to do the right thing, going for coffee. You had no way of knowing he’d leave.”
“I should have done something.…”
“Life’s filled with ‘what ifs,’ Leigh Ann. What if I’d driven down that highway five minutes earlier, or later, or just pulled off the highway?” He expelled his breath in a long, slow hiss. “I’ve learned a lot about myself—and life—these past five years. Had I heard this, say four years ago, I might have blamed you. Back then, I was drinking my life away, angry at the world. I’m past that now. I got hit by a drunk driver. That’s the beginning and the end of that story.”
He held out his hand, and when she took it, he kissed the center of her palm. “I’ve accepted what happened to me. As much as I wish it were different, my sight’s gone for good. I’ve been given a new gift instead, a vision that goes deeper inside than ever before. I can see anything now through my senses and my imagination.”
“You’ve adapted, but—”
He shook his head. “There are no negatives. Before I met you I was empty inside. Your voice, your touch, your courage, they brought me back to life. Can’t you see it, Leigh Ann? Your light pushed back my darkness.”
She felt the tears running down her face. “You’re a beautiful man, Melvin, inside and out. When I saw that photograph, I thought you might be angry, maybe even hate me.…”
“No, Leigh Ann, I love you. Let go of the past and take what’s before you today. Can you do that?”
She stepped into his arms. “This is where I choose to be. I love you. I have for a long time.”
He cupped her face and took her mouth in a slow burning kiss. As Leigh Ann melted against him, he lifted her into his arms. “I want you in my bed, taking from me, and giving me everything. No more holdbacks.”
Melvin carried her gently toward the doorway. “Stop!” she whispered.
“What? Now you change your mind?”
She laughed. “No, silly. You’re about to slam my legs into the doorjamb.”
He laughed, then they laughed together. “Okay, now that I’ve been properly embarrassed, you guide me to the bed. After that, I’ll be the one guiding you.”
The thought was intriguing and formed all kinds of images in her head, all of them X-rated. “Turn to your left, just a little. That’s it, now straight ahead.”
He carried her through the doorway and took three angled steps toward the bed. “How close am I?” he whispered.
“One more step, then turn me just a little to your right.”
“Together, we can make this work, sweetheart.” He took a step, brushed up against the bed, and lowered her to the soft mattress.
He bent down and undressed her, kissing her in ways that made her moan softly with pleasure. “I want you to burn for me, to need me as much as I do you. It’s our time,” he murmured.
“I like the darkness in here,” she whispered, reaching out to him.
“Yes, and there’s balance in that, too. Feel, use your heart and your hands to explore, to learn … to live.”
Welcoming the darkness, Leigh Ann surrendered to the night.