It was awkward between them for a little while. Logan still came to visit, but he was far more moody and emotional than Grace had ever known him to be, and spending time with him wasn't always fun. She didn't try to cheer him up; she knew it was good for him to grieve for a while.

After a while the sadness was replaced by restlessness. Logan was no longer content to simply visit her at the hospital. Trouble was, there wasn't much to do in Seattle these days, and neither of them could afford what little there was. Parks and other public spaces had been taken over by shanty towns, and much of the waterfront was fenced off and patrolled ceaselessly by hoverdrones and sector police. Grace, for reasons she didn't want to examine too closely, preferred not to spend a lot of time in his apartment, and her apartment was unfortunately off-limits, since it was on the top floor of a walk-up tenement building, and the lack of an elevator presented the obvious complication. Sometimes he picked her up at the hospital and they would take a scenic route (if anything in Seattle these days could be called scenic) before he dropped her off at home. Usually, though, they were outdoors, wandering the streets side by side, sometimes talking, sometimes just watching everything around them.

Grace lived near a stretch of waterfront that even in better days had been run-down, and one weekend afternoon, exploring on her own, she found a loose section of ancient fencing which she could pull aside. Cautiously stepping through the hole, she discovered a short stretch of what had once been a waterside promenade. Now it was less than a quarter-mile long, but it seemed sturdy, and amazingly, occupied only by seagulls and other wildlife. To her great delight the loose fencing opened wide enough to allow Logan's chair through, which gave them a little private place to wander. That was a rare luxury, though Logan always seemed amusingly apprehensive about the stability of the old walkway. One afternoon he was so timid Grace couldn't resist teasing him.

"Look! it's perfectly safe," she called, arms high, bouncing along the edge the promenade as if it were a trampoline. Meanwhile, he had rolled back as far as he could into the corner formed by the inner fencing and the dilapidated old building that formed one end of their little space. He looked extremely nervous.

"Easy for you to say!" he called back, frowning until Grace gave up and jogged over next to him, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. "You weigh a lot less than I do, and don't forget my wheels here" -- indicating the chair - "you don't - what?" he broke off as Grace began to laugh. "I'm serious, Grace -"

"You're chicken, is what you are," Grace laughed, still breathless, and punched him lightly in the arm. Unexpectedly he reached up, grabbed her wrist, and slipped his other arm around her waist. The next thing she knew she was sitting on his lap, her arm around him, his arm encircling her waist. "I'm not chicken ... I'm very serious, Grace," said softly, and kissed her.

It was hard for Grace to do, but after a moment or two she gently broke their contact and rose from his lap. The promenade seemed unstable under her feet and she stood for a moment with her hands on her hips, trying to catch her breath and her balance. What she was feeling was every bit as strong as she had long feared it would be. But somewhere in her mind she had expected this moment, and finally she said, "Are you sure ... I mean, this isn't ..." She thought she sounded like an idiot.

"Grace, stop. I know what you're thinking. Come here." He reached out, took her hand, and drew her back to his side. "What about Max, isn't that right?"

"Uh, well, yes .."

"Max is gone. I don't have to tell you ... it took me a long time to accept that." He glanced out over the water but his eyes didn't stay there; he looked directly at Grace, and he was smiling. "If there was one thing Max wanted from me, it was for me to live. Not hide. Not run away." He sighed. "I'll always regret that I didn't do that with her when I had the chance. But I won't make the same mistake twice." When Grace said nothing, still standing irresolutely next to him, he took both her hands in his. "Grace, if Max were here right now ..."

"She'd kick my ass," Grace said, hating the little quiver in her voice. Now it was her turn to look away over the water, across to the horizon.

He smiled. "Maybe so. But if she knew I had this chance and passed it up -- for sure, she'd kick mine."

She looked back from the water, their eyes met, and then she thought, Well ... he has a point. She sat back down again on his lap and this time when he kissed her she responded with all her heart. They stayed that way until the sound of a boat, coming closer, disturbed them.

"Let's not get caught here," Logan whispered in her ear. "My place?"

On the way to his apartment Grace wanted to reach over to him but he needed both hands to drive so she sat saying nothing, glancing at him now and then. By the water everything had seemed so clear but now here in the city she felt waves of doubt. There were too many good reasons that this was a bad idea, not the least of which was Grace's sudden shyness at the thought of how she would compare to a girl as beautiful as Max. At the apartment she tried not to glance at the photograph in its usual place next to the computers.

Then they were in the bedroom and Logan was removing first her sweater, then his own. He went to the bed and Grace watched with pleasure as he moved himself smoothly on to it, pushing the chair away. He took off his glasses. Then she was lying next to him, holding him, touching him, almost unable to believe what was happening. "Just tell me ... I mean, I've never ...it's the first time .." She waved a hand in the general direction of the wheelchair and he chuckled, reaching up to stroke her face. "Know what? Mine too. We'll learn together. Might take some practice .."

"I'm up for it," Grace smiled back just before their lips met, and that was the last thing anyone said for a long while.

And so began a time of great happiness for both of them. But like all such times, it didn't last.

One evening Grace was leaving the hospital alone. Logan had called earlier to tell her that he would be working that night, and Grace was very tired. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep, with a hot bath beforehand if she could get the water. So of course traffic was horrendous, her bus route was running hours behind schedule, and the line at her stop was long and angry. Grace decided to begin walking. If she went the right way she might catch the bus line at a less crowded point, a trick she had used successfully before.

After a few blocks she noticed that a fellow passenger, whom she'd seen waiting in line, either had the same idea or liked hers, because he was trailing about half a block behind her, crossing the same streets she crossed and turning the corners she turned. It was almost as if he was following her ... but didn't spies and undercover cops keep themselves better hidden? Grace thought. He stayed with her until she found an uncrowded bus stop and boarded the same bus, though he remained seated when she got off. Afterwards she wished she'd had the presence of mind to get off a stop early or a stop late ... just in case he was some kind of creep... and then she forgot all about it.

Several days later she returned to her office from a meeting to find the door ajar. She was certain she had left it closed. Her first happy thought was that Logan was lurking nearby, waiting to surprise her with a ride home or even better, a ride back to his place. She pushed the door open and felt her heart jump unpleasantly. Everything looked normal except for the flowers, a gift from Logan, that stood on the windowsill. When she left for the meeting they had been in perfect condition. Now petals, a lot of them, had dropped to the windowsill and the floor, and Grace saw that they were bruised brown. Something or someone heavy had bumped, not just brushed, against them. Someone had been in her office. Well, it was scary, but it served her right for not locking the door. With the local crime rate and the constant traffic in and out of the hospital, she should be far more cautious. She meant to tell Logan about the next time they saw each other, but by then she had other things on her mind, and again, Grace forgot.

But there was no ignoring what happened on the Friday afternoon she left work early. She and Logan planned to spend the weekend together, and she was excited.. But when she reached her landing, something seemed wrong, and then she saw that her door was open.

This time she didn't mess around. She went back outside immediately and called Logan. As soon as he heard her story, he dispatched Bling to the scene. Grace met him outside the building and together they crept quietly up the stairs. On the fifth-floor landing Bling motioned to Grace to stay in the hallway, but Grace was too nervous to wait alone. Silently she followed him through the door. A quick survey of the apartment revealed nothing amiss except for an open fire-escape window, and after checking every room Bling lowered his gun and shook his head at Grace. "You must have surprised them, coming home early. Let's get back to the apartment," he said, glancing out the window.

"Shouldn't we call the cops?"

"At the apartment." Grace began to gather some of her belongings, but Bling shook his head again. "Not now." He moved to the front door, looked up and down the hallway, and nodded that it was clear. He continued to watch the hallway, alert, while Grace locked the door behind them.

In the car, Grace was full of questions. Why hadn't they just called the police? Why go back across town to Logan's place before she could at least file a complaint? Grace had an unhappy feeling that she knew all too well what had just happened. Bling and Logan suspected that the break-in was somehow connected to their secret world, a subject she hadn't thought about in a very long time. By the time they reached the apartment she was in a confrontational mood. She knew Bling would tell her nothing. But this time, Logan wasn't getting off so easy.

In the apartment Logan was seated at the computer table, simultaneously speaking into the telephone and watching something on screen. He held up a hand to Grace, finished his conversation, and removed the telephone headset. Grace saw immediately that he was all business. He made no move to kiss her; she stood where she was. Moving away from the table, he said, "Grace, we need to talk."

"Let me guess. There's something you haven't told me."

He raised his eyebrows, looked at her appraisingly over the top of his glasses. "There are a lot of things I haven't told you," he said evenly. "Come sit down."

They went into the other room, and he spent the next few hours telling her the most incredible story she had ever heard.