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The day of Helen's funeral was bright and sunny. Too bright, Ava thought. Helen hadn't been a woman who traded in sunny cheerfulness—she had been strong, and she had endured, but there had been nothing shiny about her. The vivid reds and yellows of the flowers seemed wrong for her.

Ava had wanted to be a woman like that once—shiny and happy, one with the sun and the colors. But she saw now that to be part of Boyd's life, there would have to be a shadow in her colors. They would have to be richer, deeper … darker. That was how strength went. It changed you and dimmed your luster, but it made there be more of you. Ava thought of herself as a balloon that had floated high in the sky, but Helen had been substantial. Tied to the earth. Ava needed that now, needed to be that person. She saw it more clearly than she ever had before.

The gathered attendees were quiet, subdued. Helen had been loved, but she had also lived a life touched by danger. She left behind no one who hadn't known this was a possibility for themselves and for her. Raylan was dry-eyed, silent, accompanied by a little bit of a thing in a black dress and coat. His ex-wife. There was a woman with shadows … but they were subdued, quiet, conservative shadows. Ava didn't want that for herself, either. If she was going to be darkened by this life she was choosing, she would deepen, as well—rich colors, not drab ones. And she wouldn't watch Raylan's arm around his ex-wife and wonder what could have been. She had made her choice now. In many ways, Boyd and Raylan were similar men, but there was a dynamic electricity in Boyd that pushed him on, urged him to better himself. If Raylan had ever harbored that kind of ambition, he'd squashed it long ago.

Boyd's hand touched the small of her back, startling her. She looked up to see him watching her face, and wondered if he thought she was pining for Raylan. "We should pay our respects," he said quietly.

Ava wasn't sure she wanted to march up to Raylan right now while he was with that other woman, but if she didn't, Boyd would wonder, and she didn't want him to do that. "Yes, we should."

They moved toward the other couple, but as they came down the sidewalk, Raylan put his arms more closely around his ex-wife, the embrace private, personal, and of one accord, Boyd and Ava turned to go up the steps and into the house instead.

Arlo sat at the kitchen table, holding papers in his hand but not reading them. He was looking at the wall, just sitting there, and Ava felt a sudden nausea as she remembered how that had felt, how empty she had felt after Bowman was gone, how at sea—and she had been glad he was gone. How much worse the loss must be when you loved the person, depended on them. She approached him, calling his name softly.

He turned, and she looked for the words to tell him what she felt, but there were none. None that felt right, anyway.

And then it came to her, and she moved closer, putting her hands on the back of the chair next to him. "She had no regrets. You were the life she'd chosen. She wouldn't have done it any other way."

Arlo didn't seem to hear, just kept staring at the wall, and Ava looked over her shoulder at Boyd, to see what they should do, finding him watching her with a speculative look in his eye, as though he maybe finally understood that he was the life she had chosen—and that she wouldn't have it any other way.

They stood by the coffin for the service, listening to the words. They felt empty to Ava—they didn't talk about Helen, the way she had been, the hard determination in her eyes. The whole thing felt empty. The flowers, the food, the aimless small talk they made over their plates, the carefully polite condolences for Raylan, all of it.

She was glad when they could leave, when they were bouncing along the roads in Boyd's truck.

"I'm with you," she said suddenly. "Whatever happens."

He glanced at her, reaching to take her hand and bring it to his lips. "I know."

"Do you? Do you really?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Ava settled back into her seat, wondering if Helen would have approved or not. She was fairly sure the other woman would have understood.