Since the unexpectedly charged moment between her and Owen, neither of them had spoken. Peyton played on the jungle gym, but not as tirelessly as before. At last she climbed to its top and sat, staring off into the distance, a small, lonely figure. Eden forced herself not to look at her niece. Instead she gazed down at the four-leafed clover Peyton had given her. She twirled it between her thumb and forefinger. I understand how she feels, she thought. I know what it’s like to have a mother you cant depend on, who goes off and leaves you. I know what it’s like to be trundled off to relatives you’ve never seen before. Owen stood leaning against one of the swing’s metal supports, arms crossed, watching the little girl atop the jungle gym. Without turning to Eden, he said, “She seems to be wearing down. Are you ready to go back?” Eden kicked the swing into action. “I’ll never be ready to go back.” “It can’t be that bad,” he said. “You’re not the one answering that phone.
