She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. But it’s love you should’ve had when you were tiny and I didn’t give it to you. No one would ever know what happened to him. ‘And I trust you will pardon my inadequacies. “No!” Her thoughts had turned in a new direction.
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