“I thought it was you, but I must be seeing things.” She holstered the gun at her thigh, and her trembling hands gingerly closed around his elbows, as if to make sure he was real. “I thought you were on Belethea. Safe. How did you—” “Ezren, I don’t want to be safe when you’re not.” Foster gently knocked his helmet to hers, searching her coffee-dark eyes, trying to make her understand. He was always supposed to be here. Even if she was walking through hell, he would be there for her to lean on. “No matter what, if you’ll have me, I’ll be right here. With you.”
