She started to agree, then found that answer unclear as well. "No,

because of me." She drew away, and pulling on a robe, got out of bed. "I

can't let go, you see. I thought I had, I've wanted to, but I can't."

She turned back, her face in shadows, her voice clear and filled with

regrets. "Being with you is the best thing to happen to me in a long,

long time. It's made me feel happy again. And it's made me see things

clearly for the first time in years."

"You're still in love with him."

"Yes. I think I could live with that, I think I could accept that

somehow and go on, with you, with someone. But I'm the one who drove

him away, you see."

"What are you talking about?"

"Didn't he ever tell you?" She smiled a little as she sat on the edge

of the bed. It was easy to talk to him like this, to think of him as

friend now, rather than lover. "No, I suppose he wouldn't speak of it.

Not even to You. After Darren was killed, I cut Brian out of my life. I

punished him, P.M., and Emma. I hurt Brian when he needed me most,

blaming him because I was too afraid to blame myself"

"For G.o.d's sake, Bev, neither of you was to blame."

"I've never been sure of that. I wouldn't let him grieve with me. And

when he was suffering, when we both were suffering, I turned him away.

He didn't leave me, P.M. I left him. And poor little Emma. In our way,

I suppose we both abandoned her. Seeing you again, being with you, has

made me realize just what I did. To all of us. You deserve better than

a woman who didn't love enough, and who'll always regret it."

"I could make you happy, Bev."

"Yes, I think you could." She cupped his face in her hands. "But I

wouldn't make you happy, not for long. You'd always know I loved him

first, and in a way I'll never love anyone else."

Yes, he had known, he had known that and her answer before he had asked

the question. It would have helped if he could have hated her for it,

and hated Brian. But he loved. "Why don't you go back to him, talk to

him?"

"Darren would be almost ten years old now. It's too far to go back,

P.M."

EMMA HURRIED ACROSS the grounds. If she looked as though she had a

purpose, none of the sisters would stop and question her. She had an

excuse prepared-a botany report for a science project.

She only wanted to be alone. She was ready to scream and wall with the

need to be alone. She didn't even want Marianne's company. Emma was

sorry she'd had to lie to her closest friend, and would confess the sin

to Father Prelenski in the afternoon. But she needed an hour, an hour

alone, to think.

She cast one quick look over her shoulder, then skirted around a row of

hedges. Tucking the notebook she carried more securely under her arm,

she dove into a small grove of trees.

Since it was Sat.u.r.day, she was allowed her jeans and sneakers. It was

cool enough in the shade of the greening trees to make her glad she'd

worn the sweater. Once she was certain she was out of view from any of

the windows of the academy, she dropped to the ground. Inside