glimpse into the past, the patch of discolored skin brought back memories of the night Becca and Robin had perished. What were the odds two children would have identical birthmarks? Apparently not as high as she might think, because there Ally Alexander stood, bearing Robin’s butterfly.
Robin. Who would have been the same age.
A wave of grief threatened to overtake Sophie’s emotions, but she shoved it away. Now wasn’t the time to let the past get the best of her.
“Sophie.” Cookie squeezed her elbow. “Thirty seconds. You all right?”
Sophie swallowed away the tightness in her throat and pasted on a smile, her expression nothing more than a reflex at this stage in her career. She compartmentalized the old grief, locking it inside the back of her brain as Cookie counted down on his fingers. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
“Sudden infant death syndrome,” Sophie began. “It takes the lives of 3,000 children in this country every year and yet it cannot be prevented or predicted.
“With me tonight is Maggie Alexander, chairperson of this year’s SIDS gala. Tonight’s carnival seeks to raise funds for local organizations that provide support services for area families who have suffered a loss. Organizers hope to spread awareness of the steps you can take to help reduce the risk of SIDS.”
She turned her cheek to the camera and gave Maggie a generous smile, hoping the woman would sound as competent and articulate in the interview as she had during their initial conversation. “Mrs. Alexander, this year’s attendance seems better than ever. Can you tell me a little bit about how tonight’s event can help our community?”
Maggie Alexander proceeded to concisely deliver what Sophie was certain must be a series of practiced talking points. The woman was effective in her comments and kept her tone conversational, without the visible nerves so many interviewees suffered as soon as Cookie turned on the camera light.
“Mrs. Alexander?”
“Please, call me Maggie.”
Sophie nodded and let her expression grow serious. “Maggie. If it’s not too personal, might I ask how you came to be involved with the program?”
Even though they’d discussed the question beforehand and Sophie knew Maggie was prepared for it, she felt like a heel invading the woman’s personal pain for the benefit of a story.
A shadow passed across Maggie Alexander’s face as she visibly swallowed. “Of course. Like so many of us active in raising funds and awareness to fight SIDS, my husband, Robert, and I lost a child. Our son.” She shot a knowing glance to where her husband stood holding Ally.
“I’m so sorry.”
Maggie forced a weak smile. “Thank you.”
Sophie reached out and gently placed her hand against the woman’s arm. “Thank you for caring enough to take action. You have my sympathy and my respect.”
She turned back to the camera. “And with the help of those in attendance tonight and our viewers at home, together we can work to better understand SIDS.”
Cookie extinguished the camera light and headed for his bag of gear.
Mrs. Alexander’s throat worked, and Sophie regretted opening the wound of the woman’s personal pain. After they said their goodbyes, Sophie turned to the door where Cookie stood waiting.
That’s when she saw him.
Another vision from her past. This one taller, darker, definitely male.
She hadn’t seen Gary Barksdale in seven years, yet the sight of him affected her senses much now as it had the first time she’d set eyes on him.
She’d been a junior at the University of Delaware, testing the waters at a tailgate party before a home football game. She’d always kept to herself, and the party had been a huge step out of her comfort zone.
Sophie remembered thinking she couldn’t decide whether her inability to breathe had been due to Gary, or due to some sort of antisocial panic attack.
Based on the current tightness in her chest, she’d put her money on Gary.
Gary Barksdale.
As if one ghost hadn’t been enough for the night.
He visibly flinched when he realized she’d spotted him watching her.
Their relationship had been brief but intense—overwhelming both of them with emotions too strong for a pair of college juniors. Sophie had broken things off when she’d realized she’d grown to need and want Gary’s presence. Of course, the fact he’d proposed had played a small role in the speed of her departure.
Sophie had once vowed never to need a man after watching her mother’s parade of losers. As much as she’d cared for Gary, she couldn’t afford to let him past her defenses then—or now.
He looked more solid than she remembered, not in the sense of physique, but in terms of his presence. He’d visibly matured, soft lines edging the corners of his mouth and the patch of skin between his brows, as if he’d spent too much time frowning.
The old, familiar flicker of attraction edged through her, causing her to fake a cough and momentarily glance away. The last thing she needed was for Gary to know she’d never quite gotten over him.
When she recovered from the shock of seeing him, Sophie closed the gap between them, ignoring the tiny voice that told her to run—as fast as she could—in the opposite direction. Seeing Gary was just what her emotions didn’t need on top of the memories of Becca and Robin.
The crooked grin she’d once dreamed about slid across Gary’s lips, dimpling one cheek.
“Sophie Markham.”
The rough notes of his voice sent a shiver up the back of her neck. Damn. After all these years, her nerve endings still snapped to attention at the sound of his voice.
“What brings you here?” One dark blond brow lifted.
Sophie narrowed her gaze. “Working.”
His grin spread into what appeared to be a sincere smile. “Kind of figured that out by the television camera and the microphone.” He tipped his chin toward her cobalt-blue suit. “Not to mention the getup. Far cry from those sweats you lived in at U of D.”
The heat of a blush fired in Sophie’s cheeks, and she turned away as if admiring the crowd. “Guess your investigative skills are sharp as always.”
“Apparently so.”
“Still with the Inquirer?” As if she didn’t know. She turned back to face him now that her warm embarrassment had left her face.
He nodded. “Thinking about making a move, actually.”
Sophie widened her eyes, asking the question silently.
“Los Angeles.” Gary shrugged. “I’d rather not jinx it by talking about it.”
“I never knew you were superstitious.”
