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Jessica
felt
herself
losing
control
,
bit
at
her
lower
lip
.
Seeing
the
stiff
formality
in
Paul
,
she
realized
what
these
words
were
costing
him
.
She
wanted
to
run
to
him
,
cradle
his
head
against
her
breast
as
she
never
had
done
.
But
the
arm
against
her
throat
had
ceased
its
trembling
;
the
knife
point
at
her
back
pressed
still
and
sharp
.
“
One
of
the
most
terrible
moments
in
a
boy
’
s
life
,
”
Paul
said
,
“
is
when
he
discovers
his
father
and
mother
are
human
beings
who
share
a
love
that
he
can
never
quite
taste
.
It
’
s
a
loss
,
an
awakening
to
the
fact
that
the
world
is
there
and
here
and
we
are
in
it
alone
.
The
moment
carries
its
own
truth
;
you
can
’
t
evade
it
.
I
heard
my
father
when
he
spoke
of
my
mother
.
She
’
s
not
the
betrayer
,
Gurney
.
”
Jessica
found
her
voice
,
said
:
“
Gurney
,
release
me
.
”
There
was
no
special
command
in
the
words
,
no
trick
to
play
on
his
weaknesses
,
but
Gurney
’
s
hand
fell
away
.
She
crossed
to
Paul
,
stood
in
front
of
him
,
not
touching
him
.
“
Paul
,
”
she
said
,
“
there
are
other
awakenings
in
this
universe
.
I
suddenly
see
how
I
’
ve
used
you
and
twisted
you
and
manipulated
you
to
set
you
on
a
course
of
my
choosing
.
.
.
a
course
I
had
to
choose
—
if
that
’
s
any
excuse
—
because
of
my
own
training
.
”
She
swallowed
past
a
lump
in
her
throat
,
looked
up
into
her
son
’
s
eyes
.
“
Paul
.
.
.
I
want
you
to
do
something
for
me
:
choose
the
course
of
happiness
.
Your
desert
woman
,
marry
her
if
that
’
s
your
wish
.
Defy
everyone
and
everything
to
do
this
.
But
choose
your
own
course
.
I
.
.
.
.
”
She
broke
off
,
stopped
by
the
low
sound
of
muttering
behind
her
.
Gurney
!
She
saw
Paul
’
s
eyes
directed
beyond
her
,
turned
.
Gurney
stood
in
the
same
spot
,
but
had
sheathed
his
knife
,
pulled
the
robe
away
from
his
breast
to
expose
the
slick
grayness
of
an
issue
stillsuit
,
the
type
the
smugglers
traded
for
among
the
sietch
warrens
.
