“I think I ought to have one. "If I thought he lived——" observed Wood. His eyes were fixed upon her face, but he opened his lips twice before he spoke. Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness. Jack was lying so still, for a moment she panicked. She changed into a halter top and a pair of tight jeans herself, and let Lucy brush her long, glossy hair as they talked about mascara, schoolwork, and boys. CHAPTER IX. Man's fate is in his own hands. "I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy.
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