he'd given her a pin, a gold Phoenix rising out of a ruby
flame. She wore it often, wishing for the courage to spread her wings
again.
P.M. married Lady Annabelle, detouring to L.A. on their way to a
honeymoon in the Mexican Caribbean. Watching the way the new Mrs.
Ferguson doted on her husband nearly restored Emma's faith in the
possibilities of marriage. Though plump and pregnant, Annabelle had
worn a white leather mini to her wedding. P.M. was obviously delighted
with her.
Even now they had company. Stevie and Katherine Haynes had arrived the
night before. Long after she'd gone to bed, Emma had heard her father
and Stevie playing. Like old times, she'd thought. The music had made
her wistful for the days during her early childhood, when, as though she
had been Cinderella, Brian had come to take her to a never-ending ball.
"Good morning."
She turned and saw Katherine holding two cups of coffee. "Hello."
"I saw you out here and thought you might like a cup."
"Thanks. It's a beautiful morning."
"Mmmm. I couldn't sleep through it." She chose a chair beside Emma.
"Are we the only ones up?"
"Yes." She sipped at the coffee.
"Traveling makes me restless. I imagine you find a lot here to
photograph."
Emma hadn't picked up a camera in more than a year, and was sure
Katherine was aware of it. "It's a beautiful spot."
"A change from New York."
"Yes."
"Would you rather I went away?"
"No, I'm sorry." Emma's fingers began to tap against her mug. "I didn't
mean to be rude."
"But I make you uncomfortable."
"Your profession does."
Katherine stretched out her legs to rest her ankles against the hottorn
rail. "I'm here as a friend, not as a doctor." She waited, watching a
gull soar out to the water. "But I wouldn't be a good friend, or a good
doctor, if I didn't try to help."
(,I'm fine."
"You look fine. Not all wound show though, do they?"
Emma looked at her then, calm and passionless. "Perhaps not, but they
say time takes care of that."
"If that were true, I'd be out of business. Your parents are concerned,
Emma."
"They needn't be. I don't want them to be."
"They love you."
"Drew's dead," Emma said. "He can't hurt me anymore."
"He can't beat you anymore," Katherine agreed. "But he can still hurt
you." She lapsed into silence, sipping her coffee and watching the
waves. "You're too polite to tell me to go to hell."
"I'm thinking about it."
With a light laugh, Katherine turned her head. "One day I'll tell you