The title for this book still eludes me. Maybe by the time I finish the rewrites something perfect will pop into my head.
This moment is the catalyst that sets everything in motion.
“Don’t you get it, Annabel?” Philip asked gloomily, “She didn’t give me a fighting chance. And she never will. She’s prejudiced against me. Just because of the way I look.”
Annabel took a step back and examined her husband from head to toe. When love began to cloud her eyes she shook her head and shoulders several times, assumed an arrogant stance with hands on hips and chin held high, and looked again. Her intention was to put herself into Dr. Morgan’s shoes so she could see Philip through her eyes. After a few moments of this she managed to see him as if for the first time, the way Dr. Morgan saw him, and she nodded her head thoughtfully.
“Does that mean…?” Philip began, but stopped short as the fragile bud of hope sprouting in his heart was drowned by a wave of gloom.
Annabel was studying her husband’s face and did not miss the wave of gloom that extinguished the flicker of hope so quickly and thoroughly. It pained her to see her husband like this, depressed and vulnerable.
Maybe she could help him, just this once. She’d made hundreds, maybe thousands of trips through time for the greater good. Philip was a good man. Wouldn’t helping him also be serving the greater good?
Annabel studied her husband’s face for a moment or two longer before she spoke. “I might,” she conceded warily, “be able to make a few careful adjustments.”