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That stung. And if hed put it to Doria in that manner, Jeren hardly pitied him the ear bashing she must have given him. She had half a mind to lay into him herself. It was the type of stupid, overprotective thing Shan would have said. But then she looked his way and saw the concern in his gentle eyes. Not for her, but for Doria and the children. And something inside her gentled. Hell be watching. I broke the silence that had settled over the three of us as we headed toward the Clark residence. Wed opted to take the van so Max could come. He was better with electronics than anyone the police department would have on hand. On to whatever was inside. And yet, the magic grew and grew. From just a suggestion, she could heal wounds. Or reopen them. We always had to do bowls of fruit at school, said Samaras mother, delivering the first meal from the steamy kitchen. Fitting in with the rest of her family, she too wore her uniform from the day; black skirt and white blouse. Fancy for working on a checkout at the supermarket eight hours a day. A dishtowel was slung over her shoulder. She placed the serving of lasagne and vegetables in front of her husband. He reached for the knife and fork perched on the side. Every year in art. Bowl of fruit. Apples. Oranges. Always a banana on the side. She concentrates, hard, trying not to let the strange droning incantations seize the edges of his consciousness. An upturned milk crate had been placed beside the table. She had glimpsed crystals; green, purple, lapis-lazuli. She hadnt paid attention. Had been too busy watching the shadows of the trees move across the forest floor; too busy catching droplets of fine rain upon his dirt-grimed face. Just tell him, Samara, pressed her mother. Serendipity, driving, gives her daughter a look of pure love. Dippys almost glowing tonight, so proud of her baby brother and her unstoppable newshound daughter. Shed cranked up her happy pop music so loud on the journey that the Figaros long-suffering windows rattled in the frames. 34 He raises his glass, toasting his sister. Saint Serendipity - always willing to blow-dry a drowned rat. Are you serious? Are you playing the morality card? She claps her hands, hooting with derision. Fuck, youll do anything. I need ten, Rowan. Maybe another writer might like to pay it. I know. And theyre too dangerous to keep here. River Holt needs to heal too. What do you mean? Sorry? she asks, looking up. Her eyes widen; two perfect drops of spreading blue ink. Youre not out of breath, she notices, approvingly. “Mums always out of breath by now.” Im so sorry about what happened, he begins, and places his hands upon her forearms, moving her closer to the fire. She manages a tight smile, looking past him towards the muzzy hump of the slumbering fell. Im not a thug, I want you to know that. I went too far – I thought he was out of line but not as out of line as me. Your sons a murderer, growls Eve. Hes gone. Hes missed his chance with the girls here but he’ll need his fix somewhere. He’ll turn up, but I won’t be helping you find him. I should never have started on this road. Neither should Derrick. If we ever find him, he won’t be getting handed over to you. He’ll go to prison like any other killer. Most of all, Samara whispered, its my admission. I will do this, she promised herself.I will make Ariah understand. No matter what she had to do, promise or even if she had to beg. Browne turned between two concrete posts and stopped in front of the gates then rolled down his window and spoke into the intercom.Detective Browne and Dakota Dale to see Amanda Clark. Still look pretty real to me. Browne pursed his lips. He dropped the file and picked up another one. Then theres this other thing about you being a danger to yourself. His eyes turned a dark forest green, the golden highlights completely gone. “Ive got enough on my plate withoutworrying about someone out to commit suicide in my county.”.