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surroundings were so compromised.
    She hesitated when she recognized the man pacing the patio. Smiling, she experienced a moment of pure pride in him. Micah had the left the relative safety of his suite. Although he hadn’t gone far, Bliss considered his presence on the moon–washed patio a positive sign. He’d grown tired of hiding.
    His ability to navigate the patio without hesitation told her he’d carefully inspected the area, discovering in the process the placement of a few pieces of wicker furniture, a table and four chairs, and the flower beds and palm trees that bordered the spacious outdoor retreat. She said a quiet prayer that he would one day be able to enjoy the view of the back lawn, the beach, and the turquoise beauty of the Caribbean waters. Until then, Bliss intended to teach him to maximize his other senses, even if he wound up hating her for her efforts.
    After snagging an apple from the bowl of fruit on her desk, she paused in the doorway that led out to their shared patio. She waited in silence as the night breeze ruffled the hem of her white silk nightgown. Micah paused less than a minute later, his head lifting as he turned in her direction. Wearing the same clothes he’d traveled in, he looked bone–weary, rumpled, and wary.
    Bliss moved on bare feet across the patio. Aware of the importance of signaling her exact location at all times in order not to disorient him, she remarked, "You’ve had a long day. I’m surprised you aren’t asleep."
    "I’d like to be left alone." Micah turned away from her, extended his hand, and moved in the direction of the double doors to his suite.
    "I witnessed what happened to my mother when she lost her vision a few years before her death. She was a diabetic all of her life. She coped really well with many of the limitations her illness imposed on her, but when her vision started to fail, she grew intransigent and angry."
    He stopped suddenly. "Is that what you think of me?" Micah demanded. "That I’m intransigent and angry?"
    Bliss knew better than to answer his question. "Mother shut herself away from the world. She stopped traveling, she refused to socialize with lifelong friends, and she quit inviting people into our home. I was a senior in college at the time. When she didn’t attend my graduation ceremony, I knew something was terribly wrong, so I came home. She’d kept the truth from me for several months, and the servants had honored her instructions not to inform me of her situation."
    She sighed, the memories coming back full force as she walked to the edge of the patio and looked up at the stars that studded the night sky like diamond chips. "I did and said everything I could think of to persuade her she was strong enough to handle what was happening to her. Mother fought me tooth and nail. It took months, but I finally reached her. In the end she fought the battle of her life, and along the way we both learned what she needed to do to compensate for her vision loss. We did it together, Micah. And Cyrus sent you to me, because he knows I’ve never forgotten what she went through. The primary difference this time is that you and I don’t have months, because your survival could be compromised by the same people who tried to murder Cyrus in Central America or by any number of terrorists who’ve put you on their hit lists."
    Bliss placed the apple on the round patio table as she moved past it. And then she paused a few feet from him to await his response.
    He turned slowly. And he moved forward with care, but without hesitation. "I’ve known Cyrus Rowland for a long time. He’s never even mentioned your mother to me. And I can count on one hand how many times he’s mentioned you."
    "He wouldn’t. He’s very private. Besides, they divorced before you ever met him. If you think about it, you’ll recall that he never discusses his personal life with anyone. I was five when their marriage ended, and they only saw each other a handful of times