From the Beginning

“Do you have a better suggestion? Please, if you do, tell me. I’ve been racking my brain for hours trying to figure out how to do this another way. But she’s so angry, so hurt—”

“It’ll only be worse if you do this.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. But I need her to live. I need to get her someplace where she can recover, where she can remember that there are good things in life. You know how dire the situation is—you wouldn’t have emailed me if you didn’t. If we can’t get her somewhere safe, we both know that the next time we meet, it will be at her funeral. I can’t—” He turned away, terrified. He’d already lost his daughter. How could he ever survive losing Amanda, too?

“I know where you’re coming from, but I still don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, it’s a huge betrayal.” Jack sighed heavily. “Look, let me talk to her one more time. Try to change her mind.”

“It won’t work.”

“Maybe not, but before I ruin a fifteen-year friendship, I’m damn well going to try.”

Simon’s whole being sagged with relief. “So you’ll do it.”

“I’m going to talk—”

“I know, I know. But if you can’t convince her, if she insists on doing this completely on her own so she can disappear the second we turn our backs, you’ll help me?”

“Yeah.” Jack nodded, but he didn’t look happy. “If that’s really what’s going on, then I’ll find a way to help you.”

“Thank you.”

He snorted. “Don’t thank me yet. If I drug her, I’ll be hundreds of miles away when she wakes up. But you’ll be right there. Good luck with that.”

AMANDA LOOKED AROUND the tent she had called home for the better part of a year. It seemed even more barren than usual.

Her belongings, except for the outfit she planned to wear the next day, were all packed in one large suitcase and the worn green backpack that had traveled around the world with her. It was old and on its last legs, but she knew she wouldn’t part with it, even after she got to a place where replacing it was simply a matter of driving a few blocks to the nearest shopping mall.

She could still see Gabby smiling and tugging the backpack off the rack all those years ago. At the time, it was bigger than she was, but she’d insisted on getting it down herself. Just as she’d insisted that this was the one her mother had to buy. It was the same color as Dada’s eyes, after all.

Blocking out thoughts of Simon—and his ridiculous ultimatum—Amanda stowed the last of her toiletries and wondered where she’d be when she finally unpacked them again. Jack wanted her to go home, back to America, but there was no way she was going to do that. She couldn’t face everything she’d lost there. Maybe she couldn’t work with For the Children, but the world was full of countries—here in Africa and elsewhere—that needed a skilled doctor willing to work for almost nothing. Surely it wouldn’t be that hard to find another position.

She zipped the backpack closed, then pulled the only picture of Gabby she had allowed herself to bring to Africa out of the front pocket. The others were all in storage in Boston. Locked away like so many of her emotions.

The photo was ragged and well-worn, the edges crumbling a little from her daily handling. Her baby looked so beautiful, so vibrant and happy and alive.

So very alive.

She was dressed in a pair of jean shorts with embroidered peppermint candies around the waist and hem and a bright pink T-shirt covered in pictures of lollipops and gumdrops. Her black hair was swept up into two ponytails and she was wearing her favorite pair of jeweled tennis shoes—she had talked Amanda into letting her decorate them with the BeDazzler herself. There wasn’t a square inch on the shoes that wasn’t covered in sequins or jewels or beads.

They were terrifically gaudy and eye-catching, and Gabby had loved them. She’d worn them every single day for months, until she’d gotten so sick that she didn’t need shoes and all she could do was lie in bed all day. Even then, they’d sat on the nightstand, waiting for her to get better. Waiting for her to need them again.

She never had.

The familiar pain welled up inside of Amanda, but she fought it, just like she always did.

Fought against the fist squeezing her heart and the hollowness invading her stomach with every strangled breath she took.

Fought against the razor blades slicing along every nerve ending in her body.

It was a little bit harder this time than the last. That’s the way it always was. Just a fleeting thought of her beautiful, precocious daughter almost brought her to her knees.

Outside the tent, someone cleared his throat, which was as close to a knock as you could get here. She ignored it, ignored him. There was no one she wanted to talk to right now, anyway. Especially of the male gender.

But whoever it was wasn’t put off by her silence. Instead, he called her name softly before flipping the tent flap aside without waiting for an invitation. That alone told her it was Jack.

“What do you want?” She didn’t even try to sound gracious, but then, why should she? He had completely sold her out.

“To say goodbye.”

“Oh, right.” She turned her back on him. “Goodbye.”

“I didn’t have a choice, Amanda. You’re—”

“It’s fine. I get it.”

“Do you?” He reached out, put what she figured he thought was a comforting hand on her shoulder. But all it did was make her want to scream. She shrugged him off, pressing her lips together. If she started to scream now, she’d never stop.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not your problem anymore. I’ll catch a ride into the city with the next transport. There’s one scheduled to come tomorrow, isn’t there?”

“I thought you were going back with Simon.”

Her laugh was harsh and hurt her throat. “I don’t know what gave you that idea.”

For long seconds, he didn’t answer. Then he finally said, “You are going back, though. To America. Right?”

“Where else would I go?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You made it pretty clear that you’re not my boss anymore. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Don’t do something stupid, Amanda. This is a dangerous place for anyone, let alone a woman without protection.”

“Look, I’m not your problem any longer. And I’m sure as hell not Simon’s problem—I don’t even know why you called him.”

“He’s your—”

“He’s my nothing. Not anymore. In case you haven’t noticed, the only connection we had is long gone. Besides, this whole discussion is moot. You wanted me gone. Fine. I’m leaving. What I do after that is none of your damn business.”

She finally faced him, fixed him with the most intimidating doctor look she had. It didn’t really work—his scowl was a hell of a lot better than hers and always had been—but he did have the grace to look ashamed. Good. They’d been friends forever, and a friend wasn’t supposed to throw her to the wolves when she was at her most vulnerable.

Even worse, he’d thrown her to one particular wolf.

“You need someone to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, because you’ve done such a bang-up job of it so far. And I’ve let you get away with it because I was afraid of hurting you more. That’s on me. But why take the transport truck when you have Simon, and an airplane, ready to take you to the States with no hassle? The situation here is escalating. If you have an option other than the transport truck, it makes sense that you take it. Besides, you and Simon need some time to work things out.”