"Dreams aren't a waste." Parker put Annie in her arms. "So what if it doesn't happen? What if it does? That damn war can't last forever. What if you get to come back?" She was quiet a minute. "Want to know my dream? The thing that keeps me going?"

"I finally get the worst of the monsters at the Centre arrested." Hopefully her father would take early retirement rather than go to jail. "Everything makes the news, everyone at risk is safe--" Jarod finds his family. "And I go to Tahiti. For three months. Sand, sun, surf, mai tais, the latest Angelica Desmesnes, and cabana boys." She grinned, then said more quietly, "Then I come back, and if no one's set fire to my office, I make it something better. And if it's too far gone, I start over. Prosecutor somewhere. Maybe a start a non-profit think tank like the Centre was supposed to be. Maybe fashion design." She raised an eyebrow. "Who knows. If one dream doesn't work, you move on to the next one."

It would be stupid to tell Isabel she couldn't die. It would be even more off-base to tell her she couldn't go back. But at least there was this.

"The day it happens, you get a phone call and an invite," Parker promised. "You'll have a set of Louis Vuitton waiting for you at the airport. I swear."

Chortling, Parker said, "Sunscreen and shades and flip-flops, and someone to hold the towels and bring us drinks. Designer flip-flops."

"Cool. Give in ten or fifteen years, and that's where we'll be." Never mind what her ulcer or the employees of the Centre might do to her first. Or what might happen to Isabel. she had to believe in something. "Right. Future's sewn up. In the mean time, I should probably get back to my room, and e-mail Angelo."

"Probably," Parker said, sliding off the bed. "I don't have to start packing yet. Although the shoes are going to take a while." She smiled and gave Annie one last pat on the head before she turned for the door. "See you then. Another party sounds good, if I dont' have to plan it."