AND THIS WAS the first morning that the water wasn’t seasoned with Jasmine’s tears. She tilted her head beneath the shower’s spray and then did something that always brought pain—she closed her eyes. Though today, she wasn’t afraid of the images that waited behind her lids. She knew for sure that all she would see would be happiness and glee. She’d see Jacqueline playing, laughing. And when Jasmine inhaled, her nostrils even filled with the slight scent of baby powder. Despair was still with her; it was the marrow inside her bones. But now her misery was wrapped inside hope. Hope. Because of Brian. Leisurely, she replayed every second of that part of yesterday, just as she’d been doing all night. In the video inside her mind, she again watched Brian stride into the room, saw him stand tall, felt the hope he brought right in with him. A rush of cool air assaulted her, disrupting her daydream, making her eyes open wide. “You scared me,” she said to Hosea, who was standing at the open door.
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