“Mine. He was mine, and not even death would take him from me—not if I could help it.”

“Mine," he said.Adam's eyes narrowed. "I don't think so. She is mine."It would have been flattering, I thought, except that at least one of them was talking about dinner and I wasn't certain about the other.”

“Mine, ... Mine is what she is. ”

“Heart turned to me, his face thought­ful. “Yes­ter­day morn­ing. Yes, that means that Daphne hadn’t been home for two days be­fore that.” He smiled at me. “You were sup­posed to be the Al­pha’s eye can­dy.”Adam laughed.“What?” I asked him. “You don’t think I’d be good eye can­dy?” I looked down at my over­alls and grease-​stained hands. I’d torn an­oth­er nail to the quick.“Hon­ey is eye can­dy,” said Ben apolo­get­ical­ly. “You’re . . . just you.”“Mine,” said Adam, edg­ing be­tween Heart and me. “Mine is what she is.”

“It was Adam, but he was too late. He couldn’t love me anymore. He would be so angry with me. I had to hide. He didn’t love me so he might hurt me when he was angry. When he calmed down, that would hurt him. I didn’t want him hurting because of me. There was nowhere for a person to hide. So I wouldn’t be a person. My eyes fell on the shelves that lined the far back corner. A coyote could hide there.”

“I could hear him laughing. Son of a bit*h. I would kill him. I didn't care if he was coyote or the son of Satan.He was a dead man walking.”

“Moonlight streamed in, sending loving beams over his face. He closed his eyes and basked in it, and I could tell it was calling to him, even though the moon was not full. She didn't speak to me, but Samuel had once described her song to me in the words of a poet. The expression of bliss on his face while he listened to her music made him beautiful.”