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demanded to know how he could live with himself, he had laughed at her naiveté. Still, she had not understood her situation until she proceeded with the grand exit she had planned. He had grabbed her and vowed that she was going nowhere. He was not through with her, he had said, and when he was, he would make sure that she could never tell what she knew about him and his “business.” Angry and outraged, she had demanded her release, and he had beaten her senseless. Afterward, he had sworn that she would never be free of him. No one, not even the police, could protect her, for if she dared implicate him, he vowed that both he and Calvin would swear that she, too, was involved.

      Going to the police seemed impossible; yet she had known that the worse thing she could do was to stay. Fleeing might result in instant death at any unguarded moment, but staying would have meant dying by inches. She had chosen the former. It had taken three weeks of hell, and another, even worse beating, before she was able to slip away. He had assumed that she was too badly injured to run and briefly left her unattended. She had literally crawled out the window and down the ivy lattice of their second-story apartment with nothing more than the clothes on her back and a wallet with less than a hundred dollars in it.

      She had been running ever since, from city to city, town to town, state to state, for more than six months. Twice he’d nearly caught her—the last time over five months ago—but in all her dreaming, asleep and awake, she had never dared to entertain the fantasy that he might have given up, that he wouldn’t come for her. The guarantee that he would come, the certainty that she must go before that could happen, was all that gave her hope of seeing tomorrow. But beyond the next day she dared not look with more than longing.

      That was exactly what she was doing, looking at the future and longing for a place in it, when Adam’s voice took her completely unawares.

      “Penny for your thoughts.”

      She nearly leaped up onto the kitchen counter. Her heart was beating wildly, even as she placed the voice and turned to face him. It was late. The children were in bed. The evening news was over, and she had delayed turning in herself only long enough to make a hot cup of cocoa to sip on her way. Adam had disappeared into other parts of the house as soon as the children went to their beds, saying that he had some material to read before an appointment the next day. That was the first thing that came to mind.

      “You finished your reading,” she said lightly, ashamed of her reaction, her fear, of even having known a man like Doyal Moody.

      Adam rubbed his hand over his head. “Not really. I just got incredibly bored with it. I don’t think insurance is for me.”

      “No? Well, you’ll find something,” she told him offhandedly.

      He shook his head, his golden eyes dull with worry. “I don’t know. I…”

      She could tell he wanted to talk, and the idea that he had sought her out to do so was flattering in a way she hadn’t expected. She took another cup from the cabinet and reached for the cocoa mix. “Sit down. I’ll make you a cup.”

      He nodded with poorly disguised relief and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. She joined him a minute later, and they sat in companionable silence for a bit, sipping and stirring cocoa. Finally she thought to ask, “What is it you want to do, Adam? Have you given it any thought?”

      It was as if she’d struck at the root of his frustration. He pushed his cup away and ran his hands over his hair, sighing deeply. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m stumbling around in the dark, trying one door after another, but none will open for me! I’ve never known anything but the military. Without that, I don’t quite know who I am.”

      Laura understood how he felt. She said, “It must have been difficult to give up your career.”

      He folded his arms and perched his chin on them. “It’s so blessedly simple in the army. Here is the day’s objective. Here are the rules. You’ve had your training. You know your role. Now go and do it.” He turned his face down, sucked in a deep breath and straightened, leaning back in his chair. “These days, I know my objective, but that’s where it ends. There are no rules, and no training can prepare you for a role without definition. I’m lost! I’m trapped in the dark, where the only door I know will open for me is the one that I came through, but I can’t go back.”

      Laura trailed a finger around the rim of her cup, choosing her words carefully. “It’s not the children’s fault that they need you, Adam.”

      He closed his eyes, but not quickly enough to hide the flash of anger in them. “I know that. Don’t you think I know that? It’s just— If only Diana hadn’t been in that awful accident!”

      Laura clamped a hand over his wrist, ignoring the intense awareness that she seemed always to feel in his presence. “Adam, don’t you see that your children have always needed you? That didn’t change when Diana died. You just couldn’t ignore it any longer.”

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