But then again, I am already hallucinating, she thought, giving Jack a sidelong glance as he casually walked beside her and dropped his not-real cup into the trash in passing.

The tunnel to the observation theater had occasional bright spotlights and small tanks designed to soothe the claustrophobic, but it was the odd clear light that pulled her around the last curve, not the chance to see whale sharks. According to the pamphlet, “Dr. Sley” was available at noon on the weekends to answer questions. Silas knew as much about fish as she did, which was zero. It was probably the psychology degree that had gotten him the job. Being able to profile a room quickly, then having the physique to be useful in a security situation, was not to be overlooked in a room with over six million gallons of water behind the window. He was good with the public, too, she remembered, focus blurring when the sound of excited kids became louder.

She paused as she rounded the last curve, her eyes rising to the huge observation window. Children talked and shouted, their high voices soaked up by carpet and acoustic panels as they darted back and forth before the three stories of glass fronting her like a movie screen. Table-size fish swam sedately in a tank so long that it was hard to find the back, but it was the light that stunned her to stillness, and she stood, lips parted as a memory tried to surface.

Clear and sliding into the ultra blue, the light cascaded over her, the harsh yellow filtered by tons of water to let the softer shades and wavelengths express themselves. It was like nothing else, as unforgettable as it was impossible to describe, and her pulse hammered. She’d seen this before, and when a flight of rays flew before the window, she choked.

Images flooded her of warm water, the taste of rubber in her lungs, the feel of it between her teeth. There’d been someone with her. Jack? she wondered, feeling him silent at her elbow, not knowing. The emotions tied to the memory were that of love.

Had loved him? she thought, blinking fast as she looked away, unable to bear it. If she had, it had been a lie. Jack loved what she gave him, not who she was. That wasn’t love at all.

“No, they’re too big to be eaten,” a familiar voice said, and her attention dropped to Silas standing at the bottom of the auditorium-like room, his bulk looking small against the backdrop of blues and grays. “The whale sharks are fed shrimp and fish from a boat. I suppose if they got hungry enough they might try, but fish that small wouldn’t be put in the tank to begin with.”

“Why are you still here?” Peri said, irate at Jack’s presence, then even more angry for Silas having put him there. The illusion was gone when she lifted her chin, and she breathed easier.

Ten-year-olds clustered about Silas to make his iron-pumping physique look even more blocky. His waist was trim, though, and his black hair had a wash-and-wear style that suited him. Seeing him in a uniform-like polo shirt with a name tag and blah black pants made her smile, knowing the man liked his clothes classically trendy and unique. The polyester weave pulled a little across his shoulders, and her smile grew. She always felt small beside him.

“Who has another question?” Silas asked, and her pulse jumped.

Arms over her middle, Peri called out, “Have you ever swum with the rays, Dr. Sley?”

His head snapped up, shock and pleasure crossing him. But it vanished as he glanced at the security cameras in the high corners. “Yes I have,” he said, and Peri flushed, both embarrassed and relieved he wasn’t angry about how they had last parted.

“Thank you, everyone, for your questions,” Silas said, his professional voice louder now. “Jose on my right can answer any others you might have. Enjoy your day at the Georgia Aquarium, and don’t forget to go up to the second level for a top-down view of the tank.”

Her chest hurt as he fended off a few more questions and made his way over, eyes never leaving hers. Last night, she’d read a few more pages of her diary before guilt had closed the binding on her thoughts concerning a long-ago afternoon at the range. Short version: Allen’s cluster sucked, but Silas had opened up to three-word sentences. Her growing attraction to him had been obvious, almost as obvious as his pain at Summer’s death. Seeing her own hopeful expectation against his indifference had been depressing. So was knowing how the story was going to end.

Forcing a smile at him now, she sent her fingers to the journal jammed into her back waistband like an evil touchstone, needing it even as she dreaded it. Silas had always told her emotion was never lost like memories, but what she’d read felt as if it had belonged to someone else, someone unrealistically ambitious and naive. Vain. Had I really been that oblivious?

“Peri Reed,” Silas said warmly when he was close enough, his hand on her elbow surreptitiously leading her out of the camera’s easy view. Head tilted, he eyed her a telling second or two, clearly wanting to give her a hug but hesitating.

Head down, she slipped her arms around him and leaned closer, breathing him in as her eyes shut. “You were right. I needed to see what I forgot,” she whispered.

Emotions long suppressed eked out of the cracks of her resolve as his hold on her tentatively strengthened into a raw vulnerability. He was warm and solid, and with the clear light behind him, a knot around her soul eased. She took a deep breath, and they exhaled together.

Lungs empty, she pushed back to see the light in his eyes teasing a smile from her. She never felt comfortable alone, despite her year of self-imposed exile. But it was more than that. She might not remember it, but he was an anchor, a fixed point of stability. And she trusted him, not just to tell her whether Bill’s drugs were what he claimed, but trusted him.

God knew why, even if she didn’t.

“I didn’t expect you to come all the way down here,” he said, his hand rising to hover over the soft swelling on her jaw, gained last night. “You found the card I left you, then?”

Peri winced, taking his hand before he could touch it. “That’s not why I’m here.”

Silas’s focus shifted, scanning the faces behind her. “Is it Jack? Is the construct breaking apart?”

Her mind jumped to the vial and capped syringes behind her shirt. “Jack is fine,” she said softly. “I’m in trouble, so he’s in and out, but he’s not aggressive and feels stable. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Silas sighed. “When are you not in trouble? My office.” Hand on her shoulder, Silas directed her through a second tunnel, dodging strollers and schoolkids lingering over the smaller exhibits. The lobby was even more crowded with the dolphin show getting out, but his touch was familiar as he angled her to a service door. “Hey, I’m sorry about the car show. I shouldn’t have surprised you like that,” he said as he unlocked it and they went up a sterile set of stairs. “Have you, um, read it?”