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"What kind of woman does that make you?"
She shook her head, at first unable to voice her thoughts aloud. She sniffed back tears. "What we did together … the way I acted when we were … making love…"
"Go on," he prodded when she hesitated.
"I don't know myself anymore. I love you, but I carry your brother's baby."
"Hal is dead. We're alive."
"I've denied it, even to myself, but your parents were partially correct when they said I tried to lure Hal away from his mission."
"What do you mean?" Cage's brow knit in concern.
"That night when he came to my bedroom to tuck me in, he had no intention of making love to me. I kissed him and begged him to stay with me, to give up the trip and marry me."
"You've told me this before. You said he left, then came back."
"That's right."
"So you can't condemn yourself for seducing him. Hal made up his own mind without any coercion from you."
She rested her head against the window jamb and stared sightlessly through the shutters. "But don't you see? He might have only come back to check on me, to kiss me good night one more time. I was desperate and he must have sensed that."
Cage's insides were knotted. How much longer could he perpetrate this lie? Why wouldn't it die a natural death and leave him the hell alone? Why must it come back to haunt him every time he glimpsed happiness with Jenny? Like a malicious gatekeeper, that one sin was keeping him from knowing heaven.
"It was still Hal's decision," he said firmly.
"But if that night had never happened, he might still be alive. I didn't have sense enough to worry about pregnancy, but maybe Hal did. Maybe that was what he was thinking about when he became careless enough to get arrested.
"I had no more conscience than to seduce him away from a God-called mission when all the time I really loved you, a love I was too weak and frightened to admit to. Now I'm sleeping with you while carrying Hal's child. The baby will never know his father because of me."
Cage stood silently for a moment before going to the foot of the bed and sitting down on its edge. He spread his knees wide, propped his elbows on them, and rested his forehead against his raised fists as he stared
down at the carpet between his feet.
"You have no reason to feel guilty, Jenny."
"Don't try to make me feel better. I disgust myself."
"Listen to me, hear me out," Cage said sharply, raising his head. "You're not guilty of any of that, not of seducing Hal into your bed, not of distracting him from his mission, certainly not of his death. Nor are you guilty of making love to me while carrying Hal's child."
She turned to look at him with perplexity. The moon shone only on one side of her face, keeping the other in shadow. That was just as well, Cage thought. He feared what he might see in her expression when he told her.
He drew in a heavy breath and spoke quietly, though there was no hesitation in his confession. "Hal didn't father your baby, Jenny. I did. I came to your bedroom that night, not Hal. It was me you made love with."
Her eyes remained still and wide as she stared at him from across the room. Slowly she slid down the wall and sank to the floor. The blanket mushroomed out around her. All that was visible was her face, pale with disbelief, and her hands, the knuckles of which had gone white.
"That's impossible," she said on a filament of breath.
"It's the truth."
She shook her head furiously. "Hal came into my room. I saw him."
"You saw me. The room was dark. I was standing against the light when I opened the door. I couldn't have been anything but a silhouette."
"It was Hal!"
"I was walking past your door and heard you crying. I intended to go get Hal. But he was downstairs, engrossed in conversation with Mother and Dad. So I went in to check on you instead."
