Hew felt the corner of his mouth curl for the first time since he woke up to find Sabrina missing. “Because bein’ well-read has always led to brain-rot and never to enlightenment.”
That was one of the first things he and Sabrina had bonded over…their love of libraries.
He’d loved them because they’d given him a quiet respite from the horrors of his childhood. When things had gotten too bad in his foster homes or group homes, he could always run downtown to the library and escape into the stacks. Plus, a library card is free.
She had loved them because she’d used her local library’s internet to surf the web, to peruse the social media accounts of celebrities and influencers and dream of a life different from the down-and-out one she’d been born into.
The more he’d gotten to know her, the more he’d come to believe she embodied the best of the heroines in the novels he’d grown up reading. She had Jane Eyre’s principles and passion, Elizabeth Bennett’s wit and intelligence, and Jo March’s courage.
Sabrina Greenlee…
Even her name belonged in a book. So lyrical and light-sounding. Like church bells ringing or song birds singing.
Sometimes, late at night, alone in his room, he would whisper those five syllables just because he liked the feel of them on his tongue. The sound of them hanging in the darkness.
Sabrina Greenlee…
Graham stood and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m headin’ back in to see what’s what. Ya comin’?”
“Nah.” Hew shook his head. “Think I’ll stay here for a bit longer.”
“Can’t imagine why you’d wanna. It’s hotter than two rabbits screwin’ inside a wool sock.”
“You have to stop hidin’ your light under a bushel, Graham. A poet laureate, ya are.”
The former SEAL chuckled before disappearing inside, and Hew was left to his swirling thoughts, complicated emotions, and the memory of the last conversation he’d had with Sabrina before leaving for Africa.
Eliza had volunteered them for cleanup duty after dinner. They’d been standing side by side at the sink, Sabrina scrubbing dishes while he carefully fitted them into the dishwasher with Tetris-level precision.
There had been an odd tension in the air. He’d known the cause…
“I won’t tell you not to worry,” he said quietly, stacking two dripping plates into the bottom basket. “I worry anytime we walk out the front door. Worryin’ is natural. But we’ll be back.”
Her throat worked over a swallow. “I’m not sure why this time feels different. Y’all have been running missions since the day I arrived. I should be used to it by now. But I…” She shook her head and sent him a sheepish glance. “I know you now. Like, really know you.”
He noticed how she’d switched from the plural to the singular. Had she intentionally gone from talking about the Knights in general to him in particular?
And why did the thought of that make his heart skip a beat?
“Oh, yeah? What is it you think ya know about me?”
She smiled that Sabrina smile. So big and wide he couldn’t help grinning in return. “I know your favorite comfort food is a whoopie pie.”
“Ayuh. And it’s not escaped my notice that everyone here needs schoolin’ on the joys of chocolate cake and marshmallow cream.”
She went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “I know your favorite holiday is the Fourth of July.”
True. Christmas had always been hit and miss. Sometimes his foster folks had remembered to fill a stocking for him. Sometimes they hadn’t. The same could be said for Easter. Sometimes he’d awoken to a basket of sweet treats hidden inside plastic eggs. Most times, he hadn’t.
The Fourth of July had been the only holiday he’d been able to depend on. The city celebrated with fireworks displays, and it didn’t matter which house or shelter he’d lived in at the time, he could always walk to the beach and watch the rockets burst over the ocean.
“And I know your first memory is of being too cold because your foster father made you sleep in an unfinished basement in the middle of a terrible Maine winter.”
This last part, she said sadly. And he was reminded of the rainy afternoon they’d spent together in the TV room.
The crew had gone to a motorcycle show on Navy Pier. But since the feds hadn’t yet given the all-clear concerning the Charleston cartel, Hew had volunteered to skip the event and stay home with Sabrina.
It’d been the best afternoon of his life. So quiet and restful. They’d eaten ice cream on opposite ends of the couch and talked and talked and talked without seeming to run out of subjects.
