Caydance was not always comfortable when he looked over her shoulder as she drew. Today, she kept drawing; he watched as the tiled fishpond slowly took shape. On a side table were photographs she had taken of the entrance to the courtyard, orange fish (koi?) swimming in the pool, the entrance to the interior of the school. In a photograph, which she had never shown him, having kissed her goodbye, framed in an arched exit, he had turned to watch her.

In an image of River Angelos throwing the ball from within the pocket, she had captured the energy of the moment when the ball left his hands. The drawings she made of his team were perfect, he thought.

Caydance continued to draw. Griff set the table, placed sandwiches on plates, opened two cans of Italian soda, walked across the room, put his hands on her shoulders. "Lunch," he whispered in her ear.