“One day, I wish to find a man like in mybooks. He has to be just like in one of my books.And he has to love me, love me more than anythingin the world. Most important of all, he hasto think I’m beautiful.”“Lily, I need to tell you something.” Fazirewas going to tell her about Becky’s wish and hismistake and let her look forward to something, lether look forward to the incomparable beauty shewas going to be.Most of all, he had to stop her wish now. Hedidn’t want her wasting it on some fool idea. Hewanted it to be special, perfect, to make her worldbetter like she had made Becky and Will’s and,indeed, his.But again she didn’t hear him. Her eyes werebright and they were steady on his.“He has to be tall, very tall and dark andbroad-shouldered and narrow-hipped.”Fazire stared. He didn’t even know what“narrow-hipped” meant.“And he has to be handsome, unbelievablyhandsome, impossibly handsome with a strong,square jaw and powerful cheekbones and tannedskin and beautiful eyes with lush, thick lashes.He has to be clever and very wealthy but hardworking.He has to be virile, fierce, ruthless andrugged.”Now she was getting over his head. He didn’tthink there was such a thing as impossibly handsome.How cheekbones could be powerful,Fazire didn’t know. He was even thinking hemight have to look up “virile” in the dictionarySarah had given him.“And he has to be hard and cold and maybe alittle bit forbidding, a little bit bad with a brokenheart I have to mend or one encased in ice I haveto melt or better yet… both!”Fazire thought this was getting a bit ridiculous.It was the most complicated wish he’d everheard.But she wasn’t yet finished.“We have to go through some trials and tribulations.Something to test our love, make it strongand worthy. And… and… he has to be daring andvery masculine. Powerful. People must respecthim, maybe even fear him. Graceful too and lithe,like a… like a cat! Or a lion. Or something likethat.”She was losing steam and Fazire had to admithe was grateful for it.“And he has to be a good lover.” Lily shockedFazire by saying. “The best, so good, he could almostmake love to me just by using his eyes.”Fazire felt himself blush. Perhaps he shouldhave a look at these books she was reading andshow them to Becky. Lily was a very sharp girl,sharp as a tack (another one of Sarah’s sayings,although Fazire couldn’t imagine a tack ever beingas clever as Lily) but she was too young tobe reading about any man making love to herwith his eyes. Fazire had never made love, neverwould, genies just didn’t. But he was pretty certainfourteen year old girls shouldn’t be thinkingabout it.Though, he was wrong about that, or at leastBecky would tell him that later.Then Fazire realised she’d stopped talking.“Is that it?” he asked.She thought for a bit, clearly not wanting toleave anything out.Then she nodded.”

“Now very much against her will, she thought of the way Jace had looked at her then, the blaze of faith in his eyes, his belief in her. He had always thought she was strong. He had showed it in everything he did, in every look and every touch. Simon had faith in her too, yet when he'd held her, it had been as if she were something fragile, something made of delicate glass. But Jace had held her with all the strength he had, never wondering if she could take it--he'd known she was as strong has he was.”

“He came to be very glad that he had known her, and that she had had a hand in breaking him in to life. He has known pretty women and clever ones since then,-- but never one like her, as she was in her best days. Her eyes, when they laughed for a moment into one`s own, seemed to promise a wild delight that he has not found in life. "I know where it is," they seemed to say, "I could show you!”

“She is gambling that he is good. There on the table, neither frozen nor yet moving, Lane Dean Jr. sees all this, and is moved with pity and with also something more, something without any name he knows, that is given to him to feel in the form of a question that never once in all the long week's thinking and division had even so much as occurred -- why is he so sure he doesn't love her? Why is one kind of love any different? What if he has no earthly idea what love is? What would even Jesus do? For it was just now he felt her two small strong hands on his, to turn him. What if he is just afraid, if the truth is no more than this, and if what to pray for is not even love but simple courage, to meet both her eyes as she says it and trust his heart?”

“Wait for me.”If his voice was just a bit hoarse, she didn’t seem to take note of it. She looked at him as though he had reached over and slapped her. “You don’t trust me? After all that talk of taking me for my word—”“This isn’t about trust.”“That is precisely what this is about.” Her fingers fisted in her skirts. “Because I’ve trusted you.”It hurt him to hear it. He didn’t know what else to do. He had no contacts left. He was walking around now like a blind man. He didn’t need the added weight of her safety on his conscience. Caine’s eyes fell away again. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”That earned him a flustered: “You told me to!”

“Tina and Pete stood together. Pete knew he should be grilling the girl, getting the full story before details were lost, but he was too spellbound by the reunion. The boy he was watching was so different. There was no way to avoid the truth. Someone, a very evil someone, had hurt his boy. Pete felt his fists clench. Whoever it was that had turned Lockie into the skinny kid trapped behind his pain, he would pay. If he had to spend his whole life looking for him, Pete would find him and then he would make him pay. The girl had obviously helped Lockie. He had no idea if she had found him or if she had been with him the whole time, but Lockie kept saying that she had ‘saved’ him. He was a clever kid and he knew what the word meant. Pete liked the way she looked at Lockie—like a lioness, like a sister, like a mother. The skinny girl with short messy black hair could have been anyone. She looked about fifteen but when she spoke she sounded a lot older. She was wearing a big coat but underneath that Pete had caught a glimpse of a short skirt and a tight red top. Not the kind of thing a nice girl would wear. Maybe she wasn’t a nice girl but she was smart. That was easy to see. She was watching Lockie with his dad and Pete could see her body sag with relief. She was relieved to get him home. It must have been a promise she had made the boy. Pete had no idea how she’d got him home. She didn’t look like she had a cent to her name. He sighed. So many questions to answer and the worst part was that some of the answers would be things he did not want to hear. Some of the answers would keep him up at night for the rest of his life. He wished he didn’t have to know, but he figured that if Lockie had been through it his family should know about it. If Lockie had been one of the small skeletons buried in the yard in Sydney they would have only been able to imagine what he had suffered. Now they would know. Which way was better?Pete thought about all the other parents who were waiting for the results of tests from the police. For a moment he let go of what needed to be done and what was to come and he offered up a prayer of thanks. Then he offered up a prayer for strength for all those other parents who would never again get to feel their kid’s arms around their neck. And then he wiped his eyes because he was a grown man and a cop and he really shouldn’t be standing in the driveway crying.”