for the abortion. A familiar anger at the injustice of the system clenched at him. When he was older, when he had some money and some authority, he was going to change things in some small way. He wasn’t a politician or a crusader, but he believed in trying to make a difference. “Did you report him to the university? Call his wife? Go to the cops? Tell me you did something?” She rubbed her forehead. “I followed him home one day so I knew where he lived. I started staking out the place because I wanted to confront his wife when he wasn’t around. I planned to tell her everything.” She played absently with her hair and he watched the way the light spilled through the honey and gold and silver threads. “ His wife finding out was the thing he’d seemed most afraid of. So naturally, that’s how I decided to hurt him back.” Daphne paused. He wished there was a drinking fountain on the bus. She seemed like she could use some water. “ One day, she came out of the house. His wife looked like a nice woman. She had two little boys with her.” She squinched up her eyes as though the memory stabbed at her. “She was heavily pregnant.” “ That prick.” “ Oh, yeah. Maybe I’m a coward, but I didn’t want to ruin that woman’s life.” “ So what did you do?” He could almost see her spine stiffen. “I finished the school year. Even though I was sick as a dog with morning sickness, I went to classes and I finished my papers and wrote every exam.” “ Even his?” “ You bet. I sat in his classes and I made him sweat. I sat farther back and I stopped asking questions, but I was there. He’d get nervous and stumble over his lectures. Then he started getting grad students to teach his classes for him, claimed he was busy with his book.” Jack began to realize that this girl wasn’t the hothouse flower he’d taken her for. She had guts. And integrity. She was also alone on a bus headed north. “ What about your parents?” She grabbed the pen and started doodling mindlessly on the open page of her notebook, right under the words, The Beginning. “They didn’t take the news well. Not well at all.” “ They kick you out?” “ No. But it’s hard to live with constant disapproval.” She was sketching rapidly and a tree, like something out of an enchanted forest, took form under her pen. “So I called my great aunt.” “ Your great aunt?” “ Yes. She’s the black sheep of the family and I love her to bits. She’s completely unconventional. Never married but had countless lovers. She was a journalist and probably a communist. Now she lives on this property in Oregon and she invited me to come and live with her.” “ What kind of property?” “ I don’t know. I’ve never been there. It’s rural, that’s all I know. She says I’ll work harder than I’ve ever worked in my life, but the air’s clean, she grows most of her own food and she says she’ll help me when the baby comes.” He picked up one of her smooth hands. Turned it over and ran one of his leather-tough fingertips over the soft skin. He doubted that palm had ever held a broom. “You up for hard work?” She sent him a glare as steely as he imagined she knew how. “Do I have a choice?” She took her hand back and he was surprised how much he missed the feel of it. “Okay,” she said. “Your turn. Your story.” “ One hard luck story’s enough for one day.” “ I disagree. Besides, the same is true for you. I’m a stranger on a bus. You can tell me anything.” He turned his head and met her gaze. “Short version. Drugs ruined my folks. I got taken away. Bounced around from foster home to foster home. A couple were good places, one family even wanted to adopt me.” He tried to keep the sourness out of his tone. “My mom wouldn’t let them have me. Maybe she thought she’d clean up some day. She never did and well, there are good foster homes and not so good ones.” Her face softened