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“Ex-wife.”

Aaron exhales through his nose. “Trent, step away.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Possibly. Step away anyway.”

For one moment I think Trent might actually try to argue his way out of this. Then he looks around at the phones, Blair, Tom, Shannon, Locke. And me.

There’s nowhere left for him to make this private. That may be the thing he hates most.

Aaron takes him by the arm. Trent jerks once, then seems to remember how many people are watching and allows himself to be led away. He turns his head before they reach the edge of the crowd.

“Rachel.”

The word reaches me low, familiar, and empty. I don’t flinch. I don’t answer. I turn my back on him.

Locke is still holding one hand against his chest, and everything else drops away. I go to him.

“Let me see.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“That’s not the same as being okay.”

He lowers his hand. The outer weave is badly dented, and several strands have split around the narrow opening. The ring sits deep inside the living willow, small and unmistakable.

Locke carefully touches the damaged weave beside it. “That’s the ring you threw into the fire?”

“Yes.”

His attention stays on the gold. “And then I woke.”

“Yes.”

The noise of the festival is beginning to rise again around us, but Locke keeps looking at the ring.

Then he asks, “Are you unhappy that it’s there, inside me?”

The answer comes without hesitation. “No.”

My fingers hover over the split willow. Up close, I can see where the thicker strands have cracked and the finer weave has pulled apart around them. The gold sits beneath all of it, impossibly familiar.

I touch the unbroken willow beside the damaged place. “I was unhappy when it was on my hand.”

Locke brushes my cheek with his knuckles.

“I threw it away because I was done with what it meant. I don’t want it back.”

His fingers settle carefully beside the exposed gold. “Does it still mean that?”

“No.” My throat tightens. “Not inside you.”

“What does it mean now?”

I put my hand over his, covering the ring beneath both our palms. His internal rhythm presses steadily into my skin.

“It brought you here.”