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didn’t know who he was.”
    â€œThose are deep observations, my darling,” Sarina said.
    â€œI saw that awful man get shot,” Bernadette said out of the blue. “But when I asked him if his arm hurt, he was hateful to me.”
    Sarina frowned. “You saw which man get shot?”
    â€œThat awful man you kicked,” she said. “He doesn’t like me. Well, I don’t like him, either. He’s a horrible man!”
    Sarina averted her eyes. Bernadette had made these strange comments about a dark man from time to time. Sarina knew she had visions, which very often were accurate. It was a gift she’d shared with her late paternal grandfather, who could also see things before they happened. But she hadn’t known until today that Bernadette had that mental link with Colby Lane. It was vaguely terrifying.
    She sat down heavily on the sofa. “What else did you see, Bernadette?” she asked seriously.
    â€œHe drank a lot of bad-smelling stuff from a bottle and a man he worked for hit him real hard,” the child recalled. “Then he shot somebody and got shot back and his arm was all bloody. It was a place called Africa.”
    Sarina was stunned. “You saw that?”
    Bernadette nodded. She pushed back a strand of long hair. “There was this woman, too. She went away and he got real upset.”
    Sarina’s heart jumped. Maureen left him? She hated herself for the joy she felt, even momentarily. He’d never get over the other woman. That was a fact she had to face. He didn’t want Sarina. He never had and he never would.
    â€œWhat do you say we have a pizza tonight?” Sarina asked the child.
    â€œCould we? With mushrooms?”
    â€œYou bet!” Sarina got up and looked out the window again, worriedly. “I guess it’s safe to ask a defenseless pizza guy to come here.”
    â€œIt’s safe,” Bernadette said with a grin. “I’ll protect you, Mommy. Granddaddy said his father was a shaman, and that he had a brother who could see things before they happened, just like Granddaddy and me could.”
    â€œWell!” She hesitated, wondering how to bring up a worrying subject. “Bernadette, I want you to promise me something.”
    â€œWhat, Mommy?”
    Sarina chewed her lower lip. “That man, today, the one you saw shot. I want you to promise me that you’ll never, never, speak Apache in front of him.”
    The little girl frowned. “But, why?”
    Sarina drew in a slow breath. “You mustn’t ask me that. But you must promise. I know you’ll keep your word.”
    The child nodded. “My granddaddy taught me that I must always do that.” She looked at her mother quizzically, but finally she nodded. “Okay, Mommy, I promise.”
    Sarina smiled and hugged the little girl warmly. “I love you.”
    â€œI love you, too.” She drew back. “Do you think Santa Claus would bring me a microscope for Christmas?”
    Sarina laughed. “It’s two months until Christmas. I suppose it isn’t too early to be thinking about it. But the microscope you want is very expensive, baby,” she added gently.
    Bernadette laid a gentle hand on her mother’s shoulder and looked very adult. “I know it costs a lot for my medicine,” she began. “Maybe I could do without it…”
    â€œNo!” Sarina said at once.
    â€œBut it costs so much…”
    Sarina hugged her close, her eyes closed as she imagined life without the new drugs, the way it had been. “I don’t care what it costs.”
    Bernadette laid her head on Sarina’s shoulder. “I wish I was like Nikki,” she murmured. “She never gets sick.”
    Sarina’s eyes closed. She wished, not for the first time, that she’d been able to take better care of the child in the beginning. The doctors had said that it made no difference, but Sarina