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on oversized loungers on the back porch. They’re covered in thick cushions, and she’s holding a deck of cards she shuffles over and over. I wonder if she wishes I could play. I suppose I could if I held them close to my face, only I wouldn’t be able to see what’s on the table.
Letting it go, I lean my head back against the thick cushion and listen to the rain fall. We’re far enough away that it’s ambient back noise combined with the crashing surf, and I’m wrapped in a soft, cashmere sweater she gave me.
The muffled slap of shuffling cards fills the air. “When it rained, Zelda and I would search for unlocked boat houses to hide from the storm.”
I turn my head in her direction. “You would stay in them all day?”
“Oh, no.” More shuffling. “During the day we wandered around, doing our best to stay inside malls or drugstores. Places we could hang around unnoticed.”
“It’s strange to think of you that way.” I try to picture this elegant lady as a street urchin.
“You remind me of her.” She’s smiling.
“Your sister? How?”
Another shuffle of cards. “You’re brave. You’re a fighter. But your vulnerability makes you accessible.”
“You mean my blindness.” A frown pulls at the side of my mouth. “I’m not helpless because I’m blind.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She rotates in her chair so it’s facing me.
I’m quiet a moment, thinking about what she said, where we are, and what’s happening. “You’re too kind to me. I should be locked in a dungeon for what I’ve done.”
She’s dealing the cards, laying them out on the table between us. “Logan is one of my husband’s most trusted guards. He vouched for you.”
That revelation hits my chest like a fist. “Why would he do that? I betrayed him.”
“Probably because he’s in love with you.” She says it so casually, as if the suggestion doesn’t crush me and make me hope and make me despair all at once.
The noise of rain surrounds us. The waves batter the shore. Cards flick against the table—one, two, three. She’s playing Solitaire. I can tell by the way she repeatedly deals herself three cards then puts them away.
“And anyway, you didn’t actually do anything.”
“I almost helped Blix capture you.”
“You almost got yourself killed.”
I remember Blix’s plans for me—hot oil, darkness, silence, imprisoned in my own body. “He wanted to do much worse than kill me.”
“Which is why you’re here. Logan was pretty adamant the night he found you.”
“No,” I shake my head, everything in me rejecting his forgiveness. “It’s not fair to him.”
“I don’t think he cares.” She leans closer, voice softer, and I can feel her looking around us. “He can’t keep his eyes off you.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “But I hurt him.”
“Only because you didn’t have a choice.” Three more cards. She’s back to casual, oblivious to my inner turmoil. “The way he looks at you sometimes could set the house on fire.”
I lower my face to my cool hands and shift in my chair. “I wish I could see his eyes,” I say quietly. “Where is he?”
“Oh, he’s somewhere around here watching you instead of me.” She laughs, but I’m not sure she’s right. I can’t imagine what Logan sees when he looks at me now.
“Damn,” she sighs. “I lost.”
She pushes the table aside and leans back in her chair. She’s a filmy haze, but I can tell she’s facing me. I don’t know if she’s studying me or looking at something else.
“It’s easy to understand. You’re very beautiful,” she says, and I have my answer. “Do you know that?”
