Free Edge of Darkness by J. T. Geissinger Page B

agony that rose in her throat. It still hurt, after all these years, those four simple words that should have started with was instead of is .
    Fighting back the sudden, horrible onslaught of tears, she swallowed and said, “Yes. That’s my mom and dad, Keely and Carter. And my…my little brother. August.”
    Auggie. We called him Auggie , she thought, and bit the inside of her mouth.
    “Your parents named you and your brother after months of the year?” He seemed interested, not at all critical or mocking the way the kids at school had been.
    “My mom was a bit of a hippie. She grew up in a commune in Oregon and had strange ideas about a lot of things.”
    That was a gross understatement. Her mother had strange ideas about everything. She was into astrology, numerology, and the Tarot, and often said she was just biding her time on Earth until the mother ship arrived to take her home. An Aquarian, the free-thinking, oddball, idealistic sign of the zodiac, Keely Carter was a natural force unto herself. She was a passionate, challenging, unconventional person, and Ember missed her, every single day.
    Her mother had devoured life. She’d inhaled it. To this day, Ember had still never met another person so unafraid.
    “My brother was born in August, hence the name, and I—”
    “You were born in September,” Christian correctly guessed.
    Ember sighed. “A few more days and my name would’ve been October. Scary thought, right?”
    He was looking at her sharply, his green gaze piercing. “And they live in Spain, too?”
    Her stomach dropped. She turned back to the stove, and the kettle began to waver from the moisture suddenly welling in her eyes. “Tea’s ready. Do you take milk? Sugar?”
    There was a pause that seemed pregnant, then he came up behind her. He was still in stealth mode, his steps silent over the floor. She knew he was there anyway because she was so attuned to his movement, to his presence, his warmth, his very breath, she could pinpoint his exact location in the room. He leaned with his hips against the counter next to the stove and watched her pour the boiling water from the kettle into the waiting mug.
    In a quiet voice, he said, “My parents were killed in a car accident six years ago. It was the worst day of my life. But, in a way…I’m glad they went together.”
    Stricken, unable to speak, Ember looked over at him. Tears burned her eyes.
    A car accident. Killed in a car accident.
    She had to fight to breathe, and slowly, very carefully, set the kettle back on the stove.
    “They were married thirty-five years. In all that time, they never once spent a night apart. They still held hands. It used to make me cringe when I was young, seeing how they looked at each other. I thought it was so embarrassing. But now I realize how lucky they were. How lucky my brother and sister and I were to have them as parents.”
    Ember felt her lower lip tremble, and bit down on it, hard, to make it stop. His gaze dropped to her mouth then jumped back up to her eyes. He waited, silently, for her to speak.
    “My father died three years ago. Just a year after we moved here,” she whispered.
    “It was sudden?” Christian’s voice was lowered to match her own. The intimacy of the moment was excruciating, standing in her kitchen with a total stranger, serving him tea and speaking aloud words she had promised herself she’d never speak again.
    Ember nodded. “Heart attack.”
    Christian watched her, still waiting, his eyes vivid with empathy.
    She took a breath, tried to blink the moisture away. It didn’t work. “He was at his easel, painting. I’d come up to the studio to bring him lunch and he was fine, everything was fine. Then after we ate he went back to work and I was just sitting there, reading a book, and I heard him make the oddest noise.”
    Ember closed her eyes and saw it all again, just as clear as if it had happened yesterday. The relentless summer heat, the smell of oil paint and acetone,