Andrew almost laughed.
“I don’t sleep much.”
“Because of her?”
“Because of everything.”
“That sounds expensive.”
This time he did laugh.
Quietly.
Unexpectedly.
Amara looked surprised by the sound.
Andrew said, “It is.”
For a few minutes, neither spoke.
Then Lily stirred.
Her face twisted.
Andrew tensed instantly.
Amara lifted one finger.
“Don’t.”
He froze.
She began humming again.
The same melody.
Low.
Gentle.
Unfamiliar.
Lily relaxed.
Andrew whispered, “What song is that?”
Amara’s eyes lowered.
“My mother used to sing it.”
“What’s it called?”
“I don’t know.”
“She never told you?”
“She said it was from before.”
“Before what?”
Amara did not answer.
That was the second closed door.
Andrew was good at doors.
He knew when one had been locked from the other side.
Hours passed over the Atlantic.
Somewhere between darkness and dawn, Lily finally slept heavily enough to be moved.
Amara carefully passed her back to Andrew.
