“Does your company do any Halloween costumes?”

She shook her head. “No clothing, either. It’s primarily a home-furnishings-type retailer.”

Ava remembered the simple decor outside the Fujioka home. “You don’t decorate your home with the items you pick out for your company?”

“By the time I’ve seen it all and placed our orders for the following season, I don’t want to have anything to do with it. Lucien does a bit of holiday decor. I wash my hands of the whole thing and tell him to have at it.” Her face fell. “I told him to,” she corrected. She took a deep breath and crumpled in her chair, covering her face with her hands. “I’m trying so hard to be strong,” she whispered. “But it keeps hitting me like a blow to the face at unexpected times. Each time it’s just as powerful. It’s not easing up.” She moved her hands and looked at Ava with begging eyes. “When does it get better?”

Ava scooted her chair around the table and hugged the woman, feeling her lean into her shoulder. “It takes a long time,” Ava admitted, thinking of her mother’s death. “Just when you think you’re finally healed, you’ll discover something that triggers a powerful memory and your knees will go weak again.”

Jeanine trembled.

“The pain doesn’t go away for a long time. You simply have to make room for it. It’s a price we pay to love someone.”

Fifteen minutes later she drove away from the home. A block later she pulled over and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, her chest moving in silent heaves. She hadn’t wanted Jeanine to see how much the conversation had affected her. Jeanine’s despair over her husband’s death, and the kindness of her mother, had made Ava ache for her own mother. Twice in one day her mother had been thrust into her thoughts.

There’d been four months between the diagnosis and when her mother passed. To Ava it’d felt like hell, and when she heard of people who’d fought for eighteen months, she knew she’d been lucky. But to have a loved one vanish without ever having the chance to say good-bye would be a million times worse.

She and Mason told each other “I love you” when they parted. Always. They both went to work with a weapon at their side. Any day could be their last.

Jeanine Fujioka had experienced Ava’s greatest nightmare. The pain and emptiness in her eyes had nearly been too much for Ava to bear.

Her phone rang and she scowled at the unfamiliar phone number that appeared on the screen on her car’s dashboard. She took one more shuddering breath and pushed the ANSWER button.

“Ava McLane.”

“Ava?”

Jayne. She sat ramrod-straight, her heart hitting a staccato rhythm. “Jayne? What were you thinking?”

“I’m okay.”

“That’s not what I asked. Why did you leave the rehab center?”

“Does it really matter?” her sister snapped. “I’m safe, I’m happy, and everything is going to be okay. I only called so you wouldn’t worry.”

Since when does Jayne care if I worry or not?

“Is Brady Shull with you?”

Jayne was silent for a moment. “Yes, he is. It’s not what you think.”

Anger swept through her. “Let me tell you exactly what I’m thinking. You ran off with a married man from a facility that I was paying a lot of money for and now you’re drinking a margarita on a beach. Now tell me again that it’s not what I think.”

“Yes, that is all true, but—”

“No buts, Jayne. You’ve screwed me over again. Don’t expect me to ever contribute to your recovery again. I know I’ve said that before, but I’ve always caved and paid, hoping that this time would be different, but seriously, Jayne, I’m really over it.”

“Listen to me!” her twin screeched.

“I’m listening.” Ava was a split second away from ending the call.

“Brady understands me.”

Dear Lord, give me strength.

“I was frustrated with the people there. It felt like the doctors were always judging me and looking down on me. Whatever I did was never good enough.”

Ava recalled Mason’s last conversation with Jayne’s primary doctor; he hadn’t been impressed.

“I made great strides in there, Ava, I really did. But I didn’t feel like they could help me anymore. I needed someone who would be more supportive. Brady was struggling with the same problem and his family refused to listen to his concerns. Then he read about a facility in Costa Rica. It sounded so wonderful, Ava. I knew the warmth and sun would help me get stronger.”

Ava blinked. “You went to a different treatment center?”

“Yes. The minute I stepped in the door here, I knew it was the right place. It’s what I need right now. The people are warm and attentive, and I don’t feel like they’re just waiting for me to stop talking so they can get to the next patient. Brady feels it, too.”

Ava couldn’t speak for a long second. She’d gone to another facility? “What kind of place is this, Jayne?”

“It’s a recovery center, Ava. It’s not a luxury resort, and it’s going to be more hard work, but they get great results. I needed a change.”

Of course you did. A fresh start. “What’s your relationship with Brady? His family is worried sick about him.”

“Well . . .”

Some parts of Jayne will never change. “Is he paying for this?”