After I set the phone back in the cradle, I bawled and I howled. I gripped the sheets. I missed the only man I’d ever loved with any lasting meaning. My heart ached in my chest when I thought about telling Connor, when I thought about trying to live a day without him, when I thought of a world without Harry Cameron. It was Harry who created me, who powered me, who loved me unconditionally, who gave me a family and a daughter. So I bellowed in my hotel room. I opened the windows, and I screamed out into the open air. I let my tears soak everything in sight. If I had been in a better frame of mind, I might have marveled at just how opportunistic Nick was, how aggressive. In my younger years, I might have been impressed. Harry most certainly would have said he had guts. Plenty of people can make something out of being in the right place at the right time. But Nick somehow turned being in the wrong place at the wrong time into a career. Then again, I might be giving that moment too much credit in Nick’s own story. He changed his name, cut his hair, and went on to do very, very big things. And something tells me that even if he had never run into me, he would have made it happen all on his own. I guess what I’m saying is it’s not all luck. It’s luck and being a son of a bitch. Harry taught me that.