I lifted her chin when she let her head fall. "Everly Anne, do you think other people don't struggle, or argue, or face obstacles? We are not alone. Today was . . . today was one of the best days I've had in so long. I am so happy with you. Can't you see that?" She kept silent. I cupped her face and stared into her hazel eyes. "I'd take one day like this over fifteen with anyone else. I'd rather spend the morning with you in the lighthouse and the afternoon freezing with you in the shower. If our fate was different I would never want you to suffer. I would take it all away if I had the authority, but I would never trade you because of the difficulty, Everly Anne."

She breathed like she had been holding in tears. "I don't want to trade you, either. I'm . . . this whole thing is too much. You don't understand." Her shoulders trembled, and she lowered her head again.

"Come on." I slid my arm under her legs. "Let me carry you to bed. I promised to take care of you, remember?" She held on to my neck and sank into my arms. The house was so quiet, everyone else had gone to sleep, or left. I carried her back to our side of the house, but paused when she whispered, "Don't take me to my room."

"Where do you want to go? Don't you want to sleep?"

"I want to stay with you."

"In my room?" I asked.

"Is that okay?"

"Only clarifying."

Sacrilege. Blasphemous. Sinful.

Everly Anne sleeping soundly in my bed would be all these things if my step-mother Marta had this knowledge.

Heavenly. Angelic. Blessing.

That's all I could think, as I watched her, during the hours of blue morning light, when the rest of the house was quiet and far away, and we were close, but disconnected.

A shirt too big, pajama pants too warm for summer, and satin pink eye mask were the only real sin, covering too much of her pretty face. She slept without misery or nightmares. She slept like she lived on a cloud. So still I wanted to check her chest for breath. So deep I wanted to rest myself against her and steal that kind of peace. So soft, I wanted to press against her and revel in her angelic comfort.

Nick was the first person I saw in the morning. He came into the kitchen with a huge grin on his face, as I cooked bacon.

"Well, I don't know about you, Cal, but I slept like a baby last night." He took a seat across from me at the kitchen island. "Like. A. Baby."

"I slept perfectly well, thanks."

"Then why do you look so gloomy?"

"I'm only thinking." I looked up at him. "That's when you use . . ."

"You're just so funny, Callum."

I smiled. "I'm good. Really."

"Just not "I got freshly laid last night" good."

"I wasn't trying to get laid. After three years of med school, there is this thing that happens to a med student when you get near a bed. It's called face-planting right into your pillow."

He laughed. "Call it whatever you like, brother. I'm here for you."

"You're here for the bacon I'm not sharing with you," I replied.

"You and I both know that is way too much damn bacon for one person. I am here to save your arteries," he said.

"Everly will be saving my arteries, because I am sharing this bacon with Everly."

He nodded his head. "Bacon is a good choice when one is attempting to get himself out of the dog house."

"I'm not in the dog house, Nick."

I found a few plates and begrudgingly shared four slices of bacon with Nick. The rest went on Everly's plate, along with scrambled eggs. She was in the bathroom when I found her upstairs, the water running, the door ajar. I knocked and then pushed the door open. She dropped something into the sink as if I scared her.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"It's okay." She collected a bottle from the sink and shoved it in her bag. Turned the water off.

"I made you breakfast."

She kept her eyes down. I stepped inside the bathroom and smoothed my hand along her hair. "We can eat in my room. Or out on the patio. Or you can eat all alone. Whatever works best for you."