Belladonna

is ever the same as it was."
    Michael watched Sebastian race across the lawn and sweep his cousin into his arms. Good music. Strong music. And one or two of those jagged edges inside Glorianna were smoothed out a little more just by Sebastian's presence.
    It would be all right. She would be all right.
    As he turned to go back inside to make breakfast for the three of them, a movement caught his eye.
    There, sheltered by the quartz-veined granite that stood for his home landscape, was a clutch of violets.
    "Thanks, wild child."

    He grinned as he went back in the house. Then he sang as he worked. And he heard the music of her — the dark tones and the light — ring out over the island.
    They would be all right, he thought as he put the meal on the table a moment before Glorianna and Sebastian walked through the door. It would take time, but they would be all right.
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