Zelda laughed into Ari's shoulder, a hysterical sort of giggle. "Never," she said, "Never never never. Never again." She didn't care if she had to be celibate for the rest of her life, if she was never married, if everyone thought her unlovable and boring. She never wanted to experience this again - the fear, the confession, any of it. Whether it had felt good or not - and it had felt good, in the throes - she never wanted to experience any of this aftermath again. Even if she actually was pregnant it was not worth it, because she was going to see the look on Ari's face every time she so much as thought about it. And the thing was - what would she have done, were he not a healer? Confess to Ros? To Brannon? Hope that her family shielded her from the consequences as she quit her job and invented an aunt to help?

She could never do this again. And she wasn't going to. Not even if Mr. Darrow came back, and not even if he begged her. (Seeing as she had partially instigated, this outcome did not seem particularly likely.)

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