ily walked through the heavy doors to enter the plush, elegant offices of Nate’s company.

The last four days had been a tumble of activity and through all of it, Lily could think of only one thing.

Moving heaven and earth to make Tash happy.

Saturday night, they’d all gone out to dinner. Natasha and Nate, it was clear to see, were quickly forming a bond. Lily was somewhat surprised at how easily Nate showed affection to his daughter. It wasn’t lavish or showy. It wasn’t desperate to impress or please. It was genuine and beautiful and Tash responded to it immediately.

This visibly annoyed Fazire but the genie loved Tash enough not to let it show (too much).

One day, they were barely scraping by, Natasha’s entire family made up of a busy mother, a genie-father-esque figure who was more of a playmate, however, Fazire had learned over the years to do the laundry, was quite adept at ironing and could make a mean tuna casserole and the outlandish Maxine.

The next day, literally, Tash had a dashing, handsome, rich, obviously caring father and doting grandparents.

Horseback riding lessons were hers for the asking. A seven million pound trust fund was waiting for her to turn twenty-one making it so she would never want again. Rooms could be transformed in a weekend as if by magic.

But this was Nate’s magic rather than Fazire’s which perhaps was one of the reasons why Fazire disliked Nate so intensely for Nate, too, could grant wishes, even wishes which hadn’t been expressed.

Tash’s world had doubled, opening up before her with extraordinary beauty. It was, quite simply, a miracle. The wished for, hoped for, longed for, but never expected, miracle.

Natasha was delighted and Lily couldn’t help but be delighted for her.

And Natasha wanted a family, it was clear. She’d heard the stories for years, not only of all the gloriousness that was Nate but Fazire and Lily told her of Sarah, Rebecca, Will and their summers spent floating on inner tubes on the pond, their big holiday extravaganzas and a million and one other things, both big and small, that made families so wonderful.

Tash, quite rightly, wanted that for herself.

Natasha had no idea what was happening with her parents and her confusion would be extraordinary, even devastating (as Nate predicted) if her mother who had relayed so many glowing stories of her beloved Nate, didn’t take him back gleefully and make them the family Tash craved.

And Lily, knowing how precious family was, couldn’t help but want to give that to her.

After dinner, Tash and Lily had walked Nate to the car because Tash made her with a tug on her hand, the three of them walking together, Natasha between them holding both Lily’s and Nate’s hands.

Once there, he’d picked up Tash as if she weighed no more than a feather and at seven, nearly eight and a tall child to boot, considering her parents, she weighed a lot more than that.

She kissed him squarely on the mouth and threw her arms around his neck in one of her fierce hugs.

“When are you coming back?” she asked when she partially disengaged, her arms still resting on his broad shoulders.

“Very soon,” he answered with a devastatingly handsome smile to which Tash, just like her mother, immediately reacted.

“Tomorrow?” she tried hopefully making Lily’s Avoid-Nate-at-All-Costs Resolution fade to a memory.

Nate’s eyes slid to Lily, who was trying very hard to control her expression.

“Maybe not tomorrow,” he demurred, “but soon.”

It was then that Tash rubbed her nose against Nate’s. Lily watched in fascination as Nate closed his eyes and something passed over his face, something so intense Lily felt it go through her own body like an electric shock.

“Promise?” Tash demanded on a whisper, her face still close to her father’s.

“I promise.” Nate’s deep voice was nearly a growl and Lily found herself swallowing at the emotion it betrayed.

Something about that growl, that emotion, all Nate’s intensity made Lily’s heart flutter, her chest squeeze and, lastly, it made her very, very curious to its cause.

She was standing with them on the sidewalk by Nate’s driver’s side door. When he put Natasha down, before she knew his intention, his arm shot out, hooked her waist and he pulled her to him.

She made a low noise of surprise which was muffled when his mouth slanted down on hers in a hard, but brief and unfortunately effective kiss.

“I want you here when I come back,” he told her when he’d stopped kissing her, still holding her against his hard body and she realised then he’d cottoned on to the Dodge Nate Plan.

She hesitated, trying not to look at Natasha who she knew was staring up at them gleefully.

Then she mumbled, “We’ll see.”

Apparently, that was good enough for him for he let her go, got in his expensive car and drove away.

“He’s the bomb,” Natasha said, using a term Maxine used frequently and watching her father go.

Lily stood looking at her daughter watching her father’s car disappear and she saw the years stretching before her. Years of Nate bringing Natasha home, dropping her off and then disappearing from her life again for days or weeks, only to come back into her life for brief periods of time. Then again her daughter would be forced to watch him go. And Lily asked herself, could she do that to Tash?

Lily crouched behind her beloved daughter, pulled her back to Lily’s front and she rested her chin against Tash’s shoulder.

“Happy, baby doll?”

Natasha was so happy, she couldn’t speak, she just nodded. It was the first time since Tash had uttered her first words that she’d been speechless.

Lily felt the emotion crawl up her throat, already knowing somewhere deep inside her what she should do but still incapable of allowing herself to do it.

Sunday, her new furniture was not only delivered and assembled but they went up to the top floor to where they’d stowed her belongings (the ones not tossed out by Nate) and returned them to her room so Lily didn’t have to do it.

The bed was enormous, she’d never seen a bed so huge. It was a sleigh bed made of heavy, shining oak. A massive wardrobe twice the size of her old one and intricately carved like the scrolls on the bed, stood against the wall. A thin, matching, six drawer, lingerie dresser, another, wider dresser and two beautiful bed stands were added. Gorgeous, delicate, lamps that matched the exquisite ceiling fixture stood on the bedside tables. Gossamer curtains, an even paler blue than the walls, drifted at the window with heavy, slightly-darker, blue drapes hanging outside, all of this on stunning, scrolled, wrought-iron curtain rods. The floor was covered by an intricately patterned, deep-pile, fringed rug that Lily was fairly certain by its sheen was made of silk and likely imported from Turkey (she became certain of this because Fazire told her, Fazire knew a thing or two about rugs from Turkey). Two pictures were affixed to the walls, ivory mattes in black frames with prints of fancifully drawn shoes that, on first sight, even Lily had to admit that she loved, they were so girlie and perfect, she couldn’t help herself. The bed was covered in a fluffy, ivory coverlet trimmed in the blues of the walls and curtains and there were two sets of three standard, downy pillows stacked side-by-side at the head of the bed encased in the varying blues and ivory in front of which stood gigantic European squares in soft cases that had a lovely swirl of all the colours as a pattern.

“It’s bee… you… tee… full,” Natasha breathed as she and her mother stood in the doorway staring at it.

It was more than beautiful, it was the kind of bedroom where dreams came true.

The room, however, was just the beginning.

Monday, she came home from the shop with Maxine who came over for dinner every Monday evening. Maxine knew that Fazire was a genie, Maxine was also addicted to Fazire’s tuna casserole and his equally adept hand at grilling a sausage and making the fluffiest mash potatoes in history. Maxine had also had an excited phone call from Tash and was eager to see Lily’s new bedroom.

Natasha, as was becoming a habit, tore out of the house at their arrival, her black hair streaming behind her, her face awash with joy.

Fazire, as was becoming a habit, stomped out of the house, his black hair a mess as if his hands had torn through it repeatedly and his face awash with fury.

Tash halted two feet away from her mother, lifted her arm and pointed at the street. “Look Mummy.”

Curious, both Maxine and Lily turned to look. Lily saw her Peugeot sitting there forlornly looking like it was begging to be put out of its misery and taken to the scrap yard.

“Isn’t it lush?” Tash asked.

Confused, Lily stared. The Peugeot, even if Lily had enough money to have it valeted, could never be described as “lush”.

“What are you talking about, sweetling?” Maxine asked.

“Can’t you see it? Look! Behind Mummy’s car. Daddy had it delivered today, it’s a present for Mummy. The keys are in the house.”

Lily’s eyes shifted behind her car and she saw a sleek, handsome, shining, sporty, blue Mercedes convertible.

“Dearie me,” Maxine exhaled in an unusual understatement.

Lily felt as if she’d been running for miles flat out then all of a sudden she slammed into a wall. Her breath, quite suddenly, had been knocked right out of her.

“Dearie me, dearie me, dearie me,” Tash sing-songed and danced to the car, threw her arms wide and then she actually hugged it. Just as quickly, she turned back to them and asked, “Isn’t Daddy the greatest?”

Lily was saved from answering when she heard the phone ring.

“I shall get that,” Fazire grumbled from behind them.

Lily was still recovering from the car as she followed Tash who was skipping delightedly into the house in front of them.

“What are you going to do? Maxine asked, her voice both concerned and filled with awe.

“I don’t know,” Lily answered and indeed she didn’t. She couldn’t return the car and she had to use it. Natasha had hugged the damned car, for God’s sake.

“It’s for you.” Fazire was walking down the hall, holding the phone between his thumb and forefinger like it was a putrid piece of rubbish. He handed it to her and Lily, still stunned by the car, put it to her ear.

“Hello,” she greeted.

“Lily.” It was Nate and his velvet voice saying her name caused her to shudder.

She didn’t need this right now. She could barely string two thoughts together, she certainly couldn’t go head-to-head with Nate.

“Nate,” she replied.

Conflicting emotions tore through her. She didn’t know whether she should rail at him for he was using her daughter against her, there was no denying that. Or whether she should thank him because the bedroom was fantastic, the mattress firm but comfortable and so much better than her old one it wasn’t comparable, and Lord knew, she needed a car, though a Mercedes was definitely over-the-top. Or lastly, whether she should tell him to call Alistair if he wanted to speak to her and then hang up on him which was what she should do, she knew this because Alistair told her more than once, in fact at least a dozen times.

She thought he was calling to ask if she got the furniture, the car, maybe to have a bit of a chat.

She was wrong.

He called her because he was angry. His voice was rumbling with it and she could practically feel it through the phone line.

“Your solicitor told mine that you’ve put the seven million in trust for Natasha.”

She hesitated. Why this would make him angry, she could not fathom.

“Of course,” she muttered.

“I’ll take care of Natasha. I’ve already set up a trust for her,” he bit out.

Lily stood in her hall, her lovely fairy lights twinkling up the stairs.

She didn’t see this. Already stunned, she became immobile with shock. Her daughter, just over a week ago, had some clothes in her wardrobe, a decent amount of toys, a selection of expensive bears Maxine had given her and the love of three people.

Now she had two trust funds.

Lily had no chance to voice a reaction even if she’d been able to come up with one for Nate carried on.

“That money was for you,” he clipped.

“I…” she began, she hadn’t known it was for her. She couldn’t even believe it was for her. She wouldn’t begin to know what to do with seven million pounds.

“Release it from the fund,” he commanded.

Too astonished to think straight, she replied honestly, “I can’t. It’s impossible to touch until Tash comes of age and then only she can get to it.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll have more transferred tomorrow.”

“No!” she cried instantly, horrified.

He ignored her outburst, “If you give that away, I’ll have more transferred.”

“Nate –”

“Do I make myself clear?” he demanded.

“I don’t want your money.” She was beginning to surface out of her stupor.

Really, what next? Was she going to come home to a personal jet parked on a floating runway in the Bristol Channel behind her house?

“Apparently I don’t, but I will,” Nate declared, this, Lily recognised immediately, was not a threat. It was a promise.

Without a word of good-bye, he hung up on her.

As promised, another seven million pounds (she called her bank, Maxine made her) was transferred into her bank account the next day.

“What are you going to do?” Maxine asked again that next evening as they were closing Flash and Dazzle.

“I don’t know,” Lily mumbled again, and still she didn’t even though she did.

“Sweetling –” Maxine said cautiously.

“I think I’m getting a headache.”

This was true. Although it wasn’t one of her migraines, she was definitely getting a headache. She felt badly using that ploy but she knew in her heart of hearts that Maxine wanted her settled and happy and not to be so alone anymore. And it helped that the person Lily would be doing that with was impossibly handsome, a romance novel hero come alive.

And at that moment, she couldn’t face the discussion.

At the mere thought of one of Lily’s headaches, Maxine backed off. “Get home, have yourself a nice bath and don’t think of any of this.”

Maxine kissed her cheek, got in her tiny, old Mini which she’d had painted pink and which she refused to part with even though it was a worse clunker than the Peugeot, and drove off.

Lily walked home and she tried not to think of “any of this”, but it was impossible.

As Maxine instructed, she had a bath. During her bath she allowed the thoughts and worries to crowd into her mind.

Then she made a decision. It took less time than she expected but then again, there wasn’t much to it.

Marry Nate or don’t marry Nate.

There were only two options and really only one, when you got down to it.

Fazire, who was living in a temporary fog of happiness that no further grand gesture had been made by Nate (he didn’t know about the money and Lily wasn’t about to tell him), made fish fingers and mushy peas for dinner, Tash’s favourite, though Lily detested it.

After dinner, Lily climbed to the top of the stairs to the unkempt room where they kept their computer. She’d had dreams, when she bought the house, of making that room her office and writing her bestselling novels there. It was at the back of the house and had a gorgeous view of the channel, the pier and Flat Holm and Steep Holm islands and, of course, the coastline of Wales.

However, the room was still dingy with old stained carpet on the floor and wood chip on the walls. Not a place to inspire a brilliant novel, to tell stories of war widows and genies, glamorous female photographers and their intense, loyal lovers.

She turned on the computer, got on the Internet, found the train times to London and planned her trip. She spent some time paying bills and filing away paperwork, just to keep her mind busy and to avoid the call she had to make.

With nothing left to do to delay the call, she phoned Alistair at home (he’d told her she could).

“Are you out of your mind?” he yelled when she’d told him her decision.

“Alistair, I’m thinking of Tash.”

“Marry me,” he returned instantly.

For the second time in two days, the wind was knocked out of her without a physical blow to cause it.

As if his words weren’t sheer lunacy (she barely knew him!), Alistair carried on. “If you want stability for Natasha, marry me. I don’t have as much money as McAllister but I want kids and you’ll both be well-provided for. And fuck knows there is no way in hell I’d ever let you go.”

She was silent. She didn’t know what to say. He’d asked her on a date but this was ridiculous.

“Alistair, Nate’s her father,” Lily reminded him.

“Two visits and you’re jumping at the chance to get back to him,” Alistair returned sharply.

At these words, she took a swift intake of breath.

“I may be paying your bills but you don’t have the right to speak to me that way,” she said quietly.

“Lily, I sat there listening to your story, listening to what he did, what he gave up, what you went through and…” he stopped himself, unable to go on. Then he said, “Think about it, Lily, just think about it. I’m very serious.”

He sounded very serious, that was not in doubt.

Then he hung up.

Resolutely putting that conversation out of her mind for she had far too much to deal with as it was, she then called Maxine and told her the plan, a little worried at what Maxine would say.

Alistair was a solicitor, he had a head on his shoulders and he’d blurted out a marriage proposal. Maxine was a character, she might shoot to the moon.

And what Maxine said did shock her.

“I think that’s wise,” Maxine said softly and without a hint of drama.

Lily sighed her relief then admitted, “I think I’m mad.”

“No matter what happens, Lily, you’ll always have Tash, you’ll always have Fazire and you’ll always have me,” Maxie replied.

Lily nodded, her heart moving directly to her throat so words could not come even if she had them to say.

Maxine, obviously, couldn’t see her nod but she knew it was there. “I’ll cover for you at the store tomorrow.”

“Thanks Maxie,” she whispered.

“It’ll be okay, sweetling,” Maxine returned. “This time, I think it’ll be okay.”

The headache she’d staved off with the bath came back with a vengeance so Lily went to bed early. She also did this in an effort to avoid telling Fazire of the plan. He’d begin floating, talking pompously, making grand statements or perhaps even dire threats and she wasn’t up for that.

The next morning, she kept it business as usual. It was getting close to the end of school and Tash was getting antsy for her summer holiday. Fazire walked her to school the mornings when Lily had to get to the store early which she told them she had to do that day and Lily watched them go.

Then she tore back into the house, not enough time to take off the little dress she had put on to bamboozle Fazire and Tash into thinking she was going to work. She would have preferred to wear something business-like and formal, like a suit but she only had one of those and she’d already worn it during a meeting with Nate. Therefore, the dress would have to do.

It was a dress she would normally wear to the shop, a deep raspberry colour with a crossed bodice and empire waist. It fit her body snugly all the way down the hem brushing her knees. She wore this with a pair of funky, strappy, matte gold high-heeled sandals that Maxine given her the year before for her birthday. They were fine to wile away the hours sitting behind the counter at the shop but there was no way she would travel to London or anywhere in those high heels. However, if she didn’t leave immediately, she wouldn’t make her train.

And if she didn’t leave immediately, she might change her mind. And if she changed her mind, what kind of mother would she be?

She took the Mercedes, the first time she’d touched it, mainly because she didn’t have the time to waste if the Peugeot decided to be ornery. She needed to get to London, talk to Nate and get back before anyone was the wiser.

She needed time and privacy to break the news to Fazire and to know from Nate that Fazire’s place in their family was solid or there was no deal.

She resolutely did not think about how different the Mercedes handled to her Peugeot. She would have plenty of time to think about luxuries, about how her life was about to change, about many things.

At that moment, she needed to deal with her situation. She needed to take measures to protect her daughter and different measures to protect herself. And she needed to do it soon before she lost her nerve.

During her two hour journey she thought of all the reasons not to marry Nate.

She barely knew him.

She wasn’t likely to know him because he rarely spoke.

He’d promised her important things and had reneged on those promises within weeks.

He’d made her wish from Fazire, something she’d waited for breathlessly for a decade, a nightmare and this hurt Fazire and Lily never wanted Fazire to hurt. Ever.

He had two siblings that where, clearly, Satan’s spawn.

He’d made her hope for a bright future and then did nothing when that was put in jeopardy which caused that hope to be snatched away.

She was still somewhat frightened at his father’s temper.

And, lastly, it was clear he would expect the marriage to be a marriage and all that entailed, not an arrangement.

Then she thought of the reasons to marry Nate.

He was Natasha’s father and he obviously, even after only two visits, adored her.

And every child needed a father.

Lily loved Will more than she could express and missed him every day of her life. If she had the chance to have Will back alive, breathing, walking, talking, she’d jump at it, she’d even sacrifice a little bit of herself (even a lot) to have him back.

And she would do no less for Tash.

Further, Nate would expect the marriage to be a marriage which would mean, at least for awhile, Lily would have a mate, a partner, someone to share the burden.

And then there were the other, definitely more pleasurable bits of being married, married to Nate. Bits, she could not deny, especially after the last two times they’d been alone together, that she very much wanted.

So she made her choice.

And she knew it was costing her. The stress and strain was sneaking up on her and she felt it.

As the train pulled into Paddington, she felt the pain coming.

The headache, luckily, was muted, not roaring. But it was there and she knew what it heralded. She didn’t find herself a snack for fear of it coming back later to haunt her if she vomited, but she took two pain pills and prayed she was wrong about her prediction.

She used precious money that a day ago she’d never have used but she was, of course, in high heels and trying to fight an imminent migraine and she took a taxi instead of The Tube to Nate’s offices.

He’d left a card with Tash, telling her to call him whenever she wanted. Lily didn’t know if Tash had taken him up on this invitation but she found herself hoping that her daughter did. It would have been the perfect conversation as Tash rarely kept her mouth shut and Nate rarely opened his.

She gave the driver the address and concentrated on keeping the headache in abeyance.

However, as she walked through the door to the plush offices, she felt the nausea building in her stomach and fought it back.

In her head, she tried to plan her strategy at dealing with the migraine. She tried to time the meeting with Nate. Would it take ten minutes? Fifteen? An hour? She hoped not an hour. And she tried to assess the possibility of the pounding intensifying to the point she was made invalid, wondering if she could make it back home on the train.

As the pain intensified, she decided she could not. She would need to get a hotel room for a couple of hours just to rest and let the migraine run its course. She’d be queasy and not herself when it was over but she thought she’d likely be able to get home hopefully in time.

Lily had not told Nate she was coming. She wanted the element of surprise. She was giving in but he had to give in too. She wasn’t stupid and she wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. She wasn’t moving from Clevedon. If he wanted Tash, he’d have to come to them.

She walked up to the reception desk which seemed an impossible distance from the front doors. The walls were some sort of highly-shined wood panelling that Lily found way too bright for her sensitive eyes to take. The reception desk was a huge semi-circle made of the same wood that could easily have sat five. But only one very pretty woman sat behind it.

“Hi,” Lily greeted, fighting back the sick feeling in her stomach, “I’m Lily Jacobs, I’m here to see Mr. McAllister.”

The girl’s eyes travelled the length of Lily but Lily barely noticed. She had to put her hand to the desk to steady herself as she saw the flashes in her eyes.

No, no, no, she thought, not this soon.

It was coming on her quickly, far more quickly than normal. Most likely the strain of the last few weeks, all the shocks, the emotions.

“Is he expecting you?” the woman broke into her thoughts.

“No, but it’s important. If he’s free, I’d like to speak with him.”

The girl watched Lily for a moment and asked, “Are you all right?”

With effort, Lily focussed on her, “Just a headache.”

She carefully assessed Lily and said, “I’ll ring his office, won’t be a second.” Her voice was kind and then moments later she went on. “Hiya Jennifer, there’s a Ms. Lily Jacobs here to see Mr. McAllister. She says she doesn’t have an appointment but it’s important.”

Lily leaned more of her weight on her hand on the woman’s desk. Soon, she knew, she might not be able to hold herself upright.

The receptionist was on hold and she put her hand over the mouthpiece and said to Lily, “Why don’t you sit down? Jennifer’s ringing him now, I’ll…” She stopped talking and Lily concentrated closely on her face. If she didn’t she just might throw up. The flashing lights in her eyes were now zooming and the pain in her head was magnifying alarmingly.

The woman’s eyes widened and her lips parted at whatever she heard on the phone.

Lily didn’t care. She wasn’t going to make it. She needed to find somewhere to lay down immediately. Somewhere quiet, cool and very, very dark.

“Mr. McAllister is coming down himself,” the receptionist breathed as if the Lord Almighty had rung to invite her to a picnic. She was staring at Lily with new interest but she didn’t like what she saw. “You’re not okay,” she accused but it was soft, thoughtful accusation and she surged from her chair and made her way around the desk.

Lily moved to face the desk fully and she put both her hands on it to hold herself up. She dropped her head and started to take deep breaths. She felt the woman’s hand on her back and tried not to flinch at the touch. Touch was not good.

“Is there something I can do?” she queried. “Do you need a glass of water? Let’s get you seated.”

Lily nodded, a seat would be good. Standing was bad, very, very bad.

She was beyond speech, beyond much of anything, the pain was at her left temple, unexplainable, indescribable, twisting pain.

“Lily.” She heard the deep rumble of Nate’s voice saying her name but she didn’t turn.

“Mr. McAllister, I think something’s wrong with her,” the receptionist murmured.

Nate was at her side in less than a second. She felt him rather than saw him, her eyes were squeezed shut.

“Jesus, Lily,” he muttered, his heavy, warm hand replacing his receptionist’s at her back and his other hand went to her waist where he gently turned her to face him.

In doing so, she had to give a great deal of her weight to him as she took her hands from the desk. His body tensed at the unexpected burden and her hands moved to the sides of his waist to hang on for dear life.

He pulled her to him with one hand, bracing her weight against his body while his other hand went below her chin and tilted her face to his.

Unseeing and unfocussed, she looked in the vague direction of his face.

“Nate, I think I need to lie down,” she whispered.

He moved suddenly then and she cried out. Sudden movement was not good. Any movement was not good.

But then she was freed of supporting herself at all because she was lifted in his arms. She rested an arm around his shoulders, a hand on his chest and her head in the bend of his neck.

This was a far better place to be than standing.

“Call Jennifer,” he barked, walking away. The walking away part wasn’t so good. It was movement and she made a noise of protest in the back of her throat. At the sound of it, his strides lengthened. “Tell her I want my physician at my flat immediately. And I want her to phone Mrs. Roberts, tell my mother Lily’s here and she’s ill.”

They were going somewhere, she didn’t know where but she hoped they got there soon or she’d vomit all over Nate’s lovely suit.

“Lily, do you know what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Headache,” was all she could manage to say and this she said very quietly in hopes he’d catch the hint and stop talking so loudly. Or, better yet, at all.

“This isn’t just a fucking headache,” he responded tersely, his voice rough with concern.

She didn’t reply. He was right for one and for another, she was loathe to open her mouth.

They’d arrived somewhere and he set her on her feet but didn’t make her take her own weight as he held her against his body then shifted her and she was finally, blissfully sitting.

In a car.

In terror, she surged up and out of the car, slamming straight into him.

“No!” she cried and the pain shot though her head like a bullet. She winced, not knowing her already pale face became ashen.

“Lily, for God’s sake, what’s wrong?” She looked up at him, tried to focus through the excruciating pain and Nate looked at her face. “Christ!”

The word was an explosion. She winced at the noise of his voice.

“Migraine, Nate, I can’t ride in a car. The motion will make me sick. I can’t bear it. Can’t endure the movement. I need to lie down, now,” she explained and the effort of words completely exhausted her.

“You have to get in the car, darling, we’re in a car park. We’ll be home soon,” he assured her, his voice now back to gentle.

“The car park is fine.” And at that moment, lost in the pain, it was true. She would have lain anywhere, just as long as it was down, it was quiet and she no longer had to move. “I’ll just lie down by the car.”

He didn’t listen, he pushed her in the car, carefully but forcefully, and before she could surge out again, he buckled her in. He wasted no time getting in the driver’s seat and setting them in motion.

Nate, just as in memory, drove hard and fast, this time out of necessity. Lily leaned forward, put her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands to keep it as still as possible.

And finally, Lily lost her control of the pain and she had no idea she was keening, emitting low, frightening, animal-like noises of sheer agony.