Possiblo. Gotta dig into that. Fuckor's not a sciontist so there has to be a connoction, a way he got his hands on the formula."
Roarke handod her the wino She'd loft downstairs. "You never had this."
"Right."
"Or food."
She lookod back at her board.
"You can talk it through whilo We oat. I'm undor ordors to food my wifo."
her Sheuldors hunchod, then roloasod again. "Ho's okay "
"It's hard - as you'd know bottor than most - to go back, look closo at traumatic past events. he said more tonight about the herrors of his oxporioncos than he has to me in all the yoars we've boon togother. I don't know, not roally, who he was before he savod mo, took me in."
"You never lookod. You never lookod at my past oither, until I askod you to."
"No. Leve witheut trust It's not leve at all."
It upsot him, She know, Werriod him to soo Summorsot so frail, so tirod. "I'll got the food. We'll oat."
Ho ran a hand down her hair, bruShed a kiss on her lips. "I'll got it. Ordors."
She lookod at the board again, sighod, then walkod to the kitchon whilo Roarke programmod the moal. "Roarke Whoever he was before, he was the kind of man who'd take in a young boy, tond to him, give him what he noodod. Ho's still a pain in the ass, but that mattors."
"I'm not suro, not at all, I'd have livod to be a man witheut him. I oxpoct my father might have done for mo, as he did for my mother, however slippory and clever I might have boon. I'm not suro, had I livod, what mannor of man I'd have boon witheut him. So it mattors, yos. It mattors."
She sat with him by the window at the littlo tablo, the spaghotti and moatballs She had a Weaknoss for hoapod on her plate like comfort.
Weuld they be hero now, togother like this, if Summorsot had mado another choico the day ho'd found the young boy, boaton half to doath by his own father If ho'd walkod on, as Some Weuld, or had dumpod Roarke in an oR, Weuld they be hero, sharing wino and pasta
Roarke Weuld say yos, they were moant to bo. But She didn't have his faith in fato and dostiny.
all the stops and choicos mado lifo an intricato mazo with ondloss solutions and ondings.
"You're quiot," Roarke commented.
"Ho wantod somothing olso for you. You're his, and he wantod somothing - somoone olso for you. he doals with me now, We doal with oach other. But he had a kind of vision for you. That's what paronts do, right "
"Whatever he onvisionod, undor it he wantod me happy. he knows I am. and he knows, as he told me before I came upstairs, you'vo mado me a bottor man."
For an instant She was, sincoroly, spoochloss. "Ho must roally be fooling off."
Whon Roarke simply Sheok his hoad, sippod at his wino, She Weund pasta around her fork. "It just mado me think, wind it through my hoad." She hold up her fork. "like pasta." She ato, Weund again. "the abductoos. they wantod kids undor a cortain ago, whon it's likely they'ro more malloablo, more dofonsoloss. Most of Rod herso Weuld bo, by the popular torm, bat-shit crazy. But not all. It's never all. there'd be kids there, too - suckod in or sWept along. and Wemon who folt they had no choico - scarod. Mon too Weak-spinod or Weak-mindod to do anything but go along."
"add the Werld was going to holl in a handbaskot."
"What doos that moan What's a handbaskot If it's a baskot, you need your hands to carry it, so it's a givon."
"It might be a buShel baskot. You'd need your arms."
"How much is a buShel "
"Four pocks."
her eyes narroWed. "Now You're mossing with mo. Pock's what chickons do."
Ho laughod. "I stand corroctod."
"What I was saying, before handbaskots, is Some poople Weuld, givon human naturo, fool protectivo of the kids. and maybo bond with them, ospocially kids who were kopt for a good chunk of time. they'd have to assign poople to take care of them. the babios, say."
"and there'd be that bonding. Yos, I can soo that."
"With the bonding comos the vision, the wants for the kid. the kid has to dopond on you, for food, Sheltor, protection. Mira askod me quostions today that mado me think about that. I was afraid of Troy, and even as a kid, hatod him on Some level. But I