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fingertips, and his heart broke for her.
    “I don’t mean to sound like a crybaby or a drama queen,” she said, still huddled against him. “I just can’t settle for taking photographs that aren’t up to my usual standards.”
    That couldn’t be the outcome. “I’ve seen people relearn how to do things again after massive strokes. Talk. Walk. Function. It’s hard work, but it’s possible. Don’t you dare stop fighting, Lucy. You’ll get through this. I know you will.”
    A tear dripped down onto his pant leg, and he froze. She’s crying? Of course she was crying.  
    “You’re right,” she said, sniffing now. “If I work hard, I might be able to take the kind of pictures I’m used to taking. I just don’t want to have to struggle that hard to be myself again, you know?”
    When she shifted to sit up straighter on the bench, he found himself unable to do the same. His shoulders felt weighed down by stones.
    “I’m lucky really,” she said, interjecting that very Lucy-like optimism into her voice again. “It could have been so much worse. Hundreds of people died in that village, and the atrocities committed…”
    He gulped. That could have been her .
    “I’m trying to focus on my blessings, but I have my moments,” she continued. “I have excellent medical care, a teaching position at one of the leading journalism schools in the country for as long as I want, and family and friends who care about me.”
    God, could she be any tougher or more beautiful right now? It almost hurt to look at her. To listen to her.
    “You don’t have to try to make the best of everything with me, Lucy,” he said softly. “You never made me do that about Kim. I know you must be angry. And…don’t hit me, okay? You’re probably scared too.”
    Her eyes flickered down before meeting his. “I am scared, but that’s not anything new. I know how to handle my fears. Am I scared that my visual acuity and color vision may not completely return? Yes. Am I scared I won’t be able to take the same photos again? Yes. Am I scared to go overseas again if my sight does return? Yes. But it’s only fear, Andy.”
    Only fear? Fear had been his living and breathing roommate since the first moment the doctors had revealed Kim’s diagnosis to them. And that fear hadn’t left him after her death. No, it had only gotten craftier. Now he had a freak-out if Danny got a cold. Worse, his sleep had been troubled ever since his mother told him about the benign lump her doctors had found in her breast. Then there was Lucy. He’d always fretted about her safety, and he’d been especially worried over these past few weeks.  
    When in the hell was the fear ever going to go away?
    “I don’t know what that means,” he said, slumping back against the bench. “ From where I’m sitting, fear is pretty much the biggest, baddest bully on the playground.”
    That prompted a half smile from her. “Don’t you remember what I used to do to the biggest, baddest bully on the playground?”
    His own mouth twitched. “You punched Jason Adams in the face, then kicked him on the ground.” And she’d gotten into big trouble for it—a whole week of after-school detention.
    She nodded. “Exactly. Jason never bothered us again, remember? If you don’t fight your fears, you’ll always be a victim. I’m not a victim. Despite my little pity party.”
    Even in her worst moment, no one could ever mistake Lucy O’Brien for a victim. She was a tower of strength. “Lucy, about your injuries. Who are you planning to see for them?”
    “My doctor in South Africa said the rest of my injuries have healed. I need to recover my strength, but I don’t need to see anyone other than an eye trauma specialist. That’s why I stayed overnight in Denver. I had an appointment this morning.”
    “Who is it?” he asked, tapping his foot in eagerness. “I might know him or her.”
    “It’s Dr. Davidson. I like him a lot. He was in an accident himself. Rock