““Matthew watched my eyes, as if he knew exactly what was going on in my muddled thoughts. I’d believed she would be better off going with Domīnija before I’d lost everything. Now I knew . . . if I truly loved my girl, I’d let her go. She would never be Evangeline Deveaux. We’d never see the bayou come back to life. It wouldn’t always be Evie and Jack. My eyes blurred, but nothing was wrong with my vision. I loved that fille more than my own life; this just proved it. “I’m not goan to kill you right now, no,” I told Matthew, my voice thick. “But only ’cause you’re goan to swear never to tell her I survived.” I swallowed. “As far as Evie’s concerned, I’m buried under that rock.” Coo-yôn nodded, then reached into his pack, pulling out . . . that cell phone and the tape player! Evie’s pictures, her voice. How’d he get those . . . ? Didn’t matter. The kid was giving me another crutch, right when I needed it most. God, peekôn. Noble, for the record, cuts like a blade to the heart. . . .””
