Faith as a little girl. Her mouth curved reluctantly into a smile. "When I was very little, I thought that Faith could fly," she said softly, remembering. "I thought I saw her do it once. I must have been dreaming, but it stayed with me like fact. I was practically a teenager before I realized it couldn't possibly be true."

He chuckled, and she turned so that she could look up into his face. Silver lights seemed to shimmer around him. She reached up and touched one in his black hair.

"You know what you said before, about my family us ing me as sort of their permission to be wacky?" She turned away again. It was easier to talk when she couldn't see those silver lights. "I think there's some truth to what you say."

She swallowed, wondering why she wanted to tell him these things. "But you know what? I use them, too. I don't have to be that crazy, because they do it for me. Do you see what I mean?"

It was a moment before he answered. "No," he said at last. "I don't. I think you're rationalizing."

She sighed. "Maybe." She turned so that she was com pletely facing him on the bed. "But you know, much as I complain about them, I really adore them," she assured him earnestly.

His forefinger drew a line along her cheek. "Even your mother?"

Her heart turned cold. Her first reaction was to snap at him, draw exclusionary lines beyond which he was not al lowed to cross. But she stopped herself. Maybe it was time she answered that one honestly.

"There are things about my parents that I can't forgive," she said slowly. "I guess I'm not a big enough person. I just can't do it."

His hands went to her hair, and he began searching for pins and pulling them out. She raised a hand, starting to object, but then she let it fall again and said nothing.

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"Look," he said as he worked. "I know your parents, were, well, basically crooks. They ran some kind of con game and they got caught at it. They paid their debt to so ciety. Didn't they? If society can forgive them, why can't you?"

She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his fingers in her hair as he prodded for hairpins and pulled them free. "It's more than that." She sighed. She was beginning to relax. "It was the way they raised us, the way they used us. They were-I don't know. Maybe they were corrupted by life in the South Seas. That's why I try so hard not to let the Tropics ooze in and take over my life again."




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