A Trace Of Memory. Valerie Hansen

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      Why was Emma hiding her face? Travis wondered.

      He ran his right arm along the back of the seat until he was close enough to grab the fabric at the back of her hood.

      One quick yank was all it took to uncover her head.

      She was startled, of course, but that was not what caught and held his attention.

      Her hair was wild and tangled, as if she hadn’t brushed it in days. Her blue eyes were swimming. Worst of all, there was an angry-looking black-and-blue mark on her cheek. It was strong and dark, fresh rather than fading, and the sight of it tied his gut in a knot.

      “Emma! Who did that to you?”

      As she turned toward him more fully, tears tipped over her lower lashes and began to slide silently down her chapped, bruised cheeks.

      He could tell she was struggling to speak. Lifting his hand slowly, deliberately, he reached toward her and wiped away a tear with one finger, barely touching her as he did so.

      Who had hurt her? And why?