"I didn't want to do it that way," I said. "But I had no choice. It was
them--or us."
Steve seemed not to realize we were no longer in danger. There was fear
in his eyes, and he was staring at me as if I'd just returned from the
dead.
In a way I had. A man may die fifty deaths while counting off ten
seconds in his mind.
"I'll give you something to help you sleep, Steve," I said.
It didn't take me long to dress and bind up his wound. He winced once
or twice, but he never took his eyes from the mirror.
"You promised to bury it face down in the sand," I said.
He looked at me. "You know better than that," he said. "I promised
nothing of the sort."
"It's like falling in love with a ghost, only worse," I said.
"That's where you're wrong. There's nothing ghostly about her."