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Lauren Black stared at her son for several long moments. Her eyes glittered like blue diamonds, their brilliant depths colored with pain. “It’s not a question about being good enough, Cain. It’s just that in some ways you’re a lot like your father. I know you don’t like to hear that, but it’s true.”

He bit his lip to keep quiet and glared at her. Sure as hell, he didn’t like to hear that. His father was a bastard. Being compared to him was a low blow, and it left a shitty taste in his mouth.

“You’re here now, but tomorrow or next week or maybe even the week after that…you’ll leave. It’s what you do.” She couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from her words as she turned from him. “How many years will go by before you come back to us?”

Chapter 3

Maggie-Grace O’Rourke drained the last of her coffee and rinsed her cup in the sink before quickly drying it and putting it away. Her counter space was limited, and she liked to keep it free of clutter. She was a great believer in the saying Less Is More, though truthfully, when you didn’t have a whole lot, it sure was easy to live by.

Besides, a dishwasher wasn’t in the budget, and the one that had come with the house had never worked. She looked at it in disgust. It was there for looks only.

She glanced out the window above the sink and felt her spirits lift as sunlight crept inside. Honeysuckle climbed the trellis along the fence in her small backyard, and a tiny hummingbird flitted about, its wings a blur of speed as it sipped the precious nectar.

Maggie slid the window open and inhaled the subtle scent that the yellow blooms emitted. It was still early, barely past eight in the morning, and the forecast called for a warmer than average day. She’d have loved nothing more than to kick back in the small garden and work on her children’s book, but time was her enemy these days. Her need to be creative, to draw and write, would have to wait.

There was always something. Like the need to earn a living and put food on the table.

It was Friday, and she had two clients slated. Luckily she had help. School was done for the summer, and Michael’s extra hands would knock off at least an hour of her time.

She slid the window back into place and locked it. The house wasn’t air-conditioned, and if she didn’t make sure they were closed and blinds drawn, it would heat up like an oven in no time.

“Michael, let’s go. If we get done early, I’ll take you for ice cream.” She smiled to herself when the pounding started. Michael flew at her from down the hall, his feet hitting the worn wood floors like a herd of buffalo had been let loose.

“Ice cream! Sweet!”

“Did you comb your hair?” Her eyebrow arched as she studied her son. He was dressed in shorts and a wrinkled T-shirt. His feet were bare, though he had one sandal in his hand. Lord knows where the other one had gone to.

“Uh…” He shook his head. “Yep.”

Maggie crossed over to him. “Really?” She fingered a stray curl, the one that always hung down his forehead. The one that she loved.

“I did.” He was indignant. “It’s not my fault my head looks like I stuck my finger in a socket.” He squared his shoulders. “Can’t we cut it? Brett Lawson got a buzz cut the last day of school, and it’s awesome. He doesn’t have to comb his hair for the whole entire summer.”

Maggie shook her head. Michael’s hair was the bane of his existence and one of her greatest pleasures. A compromise might be in the works. She rumpled the mess of it. “Teeth?”

“Yep.” A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “Anything else, Captain?”

“Did you brush and floss?”

He hesitated and bit his lip, his eyes sliding to just beyond her. “I brushed and made sure I got my back teeth really good, but…um…”

She gave him a quick hug and smiled wryly. “We don’t have time now. You’ll have to floss before bed.” Maggie tousled his hair. “Your other sandal would be a good idea though.”

Michael whirled around. “I think I left it in the bathroom.”

“Hurry up.”

She watched him disappear into the bathroom, and a familiar tug of emotion unraveled inside her. He was everything to her. Everything. She would clean ten houses a day if that’s what it took to keep him fed, warm, and safe. When her life was at its darkest, he was the miracle that had gotten her through.

Maggie quickly packed a small cooler with sandwiches, drinks, and snacks for the two of them. She didn’t own a vehicle—couldn’t afford one and hadn’t had one since leaving Savannah—so she kept things compact and easy to carry.

She and Michael either walked or took the bus everywhere they needed to go and were lucky that in a town as small as Crystal Lake, there was public transportation other than expensive cabs.

However, today was a treat. She had a ride—the large SUV parked in her small driveway needed to be returned.

She grabbed the cooler. “Come on, Michael. We’ve got Mrs. Landon today, and then Mrs. Black’s.” Ellie Landon was a widow, and her house wasn’t much bigger than Maggie’s. Lauren’s, however, was much larger and took a lot longer to clean.

She grabbed the keys off the counter and studied them for a second. The fob was as impressive as the vehicle—a sterling-silver-and-sleek-black design. It had been a while since she slid behind the wheel of such a powerful machine.

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