her combs came loose and spun off into empty s.p.a.ce. "No one knows but

you. And no one but you will ever know."

She clawed at him, fighting her way back from the edge. Her strength

threw him off balance, and for an instant, she was free. Then he

clamped an arm around her waist and began to heave.

She lost her footing, teetered, then threw her weight back against him.

Screaming, she saw the sky and ground revolve.

Michael broke through the door at a run. He shouted, but neither of the

two locked in a life-and-death struggle heard. He saw Pete raise his

gun, and fired his own.

The wall caught Emma at the waist, stealing her breath. Hands

grabbed at her, dragged at her until half her body tilted over the edge.

Dazed, she saw Pete's face below her, his eyes wide and terrified. The

fingers on her wrist slipped, and released. Then he was falling,

falling. Momentum had her sliding toward him.

Hands were dragging her back, pulling her away from the wall. Her feet

left the floor again, but there were arms around her, squeezing, holding

her safe and close. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard her name

repeated over and over.

"Michael." She didn't have to look, but let her head drop on his

shoulder. "Michael, don't let go."

"I won't."

"I remembered." She began to sob then. Through the tears, she saw her

father standing beside her. "Dad. I remembered." She reached out for

him.

EMmA WATCHED mE RAmEs from the fire Stevie had built in the hearth. He

stood beside it, hands in his pockets, saying nothing. They had all

come home with her, her father, P.M. and his family, Johnno. Bev made

endless pots of tea.

Though no one spoke, she sensed the shock was wearing off into

bewilderment. There were questions that could never be answered,

mistakes that could never be rectified. Regrets that would never

completely disappear.

But they had survived, Emma thought. The odds had been against them,

individually and as a group, but they had survived. Even triumphed.

Rising, she walked out to the terrace where Brian was alone, watching

the sea. He would suffer, Emma thought. It was his nature to pull

problems into his heart and mourn, whether they were his or the world's.

Then somehow, he would Turn them into something to be played on guitar

or keyboard, with flute and violin. Moving to him, she rested her head

on his shoulder.

"He was one of us," Brian said after a moment. "He'd been with us since

the beginning."

"i know."

"When I saw him with his hands on you, I wanted to kill him myself And

now He watched the play of the early moon on the water. "I can hardly

believe it all happened. Why?" He turned, taking her into his arms.

"For G.o.d's sake, why did he do it?"

She pressed hard against him, listening to the ebb and flow of the

sea. How could she tell him? If he knew the reasons, he would never be