If I'd Never Known Your Love by Georgia Bockoven

when someone was rescued. Still, she could not accept that Evan was gone until she heard the actual words.
    "I'm so sorry. Is there anyone there with you?" He waited, and when she didn't answer, "Is there someone I can call?"
    "Is he all right?"
    After a long pause, with great reluctance, Leland Crosby said, "The Colombian army found your husband two days ago.. .in a shallow grave with two other men."
    Still she clung to her belief that Evan was alive, that he was waiting for her, loving her, missing her, holding on to life when it would be easier to let go, because he knew that if he died, a part of her, the best part of her, would die, too. This core knowledge had sustained her for five years. "Are you sure it's him?"
    "I'm going to let you talk to someone else about that, someone who can give you answers that I can't." Before passing the phone, he added, "I realize this is a difficult time for you. You have my deepest sympathy."
    She didn't want his sympathy. She wanted answers.
    "Thank you," she answered automatically, hanging on to a piece of fragile silk thread as if it were a steel cable.
    A new voice came on the line. "Hello—Mrs. McDonald?"
    "Yes."
    "This is Roger Hopkins. I understand you have some questions for me."
    She pressed herself into the corner where the kitchen and dining room met, and clung to the wall for support. She didn't have to ask her questions; she could just hang up, go on with her morning, waiting for the call telling her there had been a mistake, that it wasn't Evan they'd found but someone who looked like him.
    "Mrs. McDonald—are you there?"
    Please, please let it be a nightmare. Let me be asleep, let something happen to wake me and make it all go away. Evan couldn't be dead. Not now. Not after all this time.
    Forcing words past the lump in her throat, she struggled to ask, "How do they know it's Evan?"
    "The forensic pathologist in Bogota had a copy of his medical and dental records...and there were several personal belongings recovered."
    "What kind of personal belongings?"
    "His wallet and watch." He paused. "And a wedding ring with the words Spring to Winter written inside. According to the information you supplied when Mr. McDonald went missing, this was the inscription on his wedding band."
    She closed her eyes. Her knees gave out and she slid along the wall until she was sitting on the floor. "When?"
    "Pardon me?"
    "When did he die?" She wanted to look back, to remember where she was, what she'd been doing when it had happened. She believed without question that his last thought would be of her and his children. He would have reached out to her to say goodbye. Had she been too caught up in creating a newsletter for a client, or cheering at a soccer game, or rushing to catch a plane to hear him?
    "According to the man who led them to the grave, Evan was shot trying to escape two days after he was captured."
    A sharp pain cut through her chest. "N9-0-0- o..." She doubled over and pressed herself deeper into the corner. "That can't be. I would have known."
    "I'm really sorry you had to learn about this over the phone. We were assured the authorities in Colombia had contacted you this morning and made arrangements for someone to be with you."
    They'd tried. They just hadn't gotten through. "I think I'm going to hang up now." She spoke slowly, her composure a bridge that had lost its foundation. Understanding that once she let go she would not be able to function, she asked one last question. "Who should I contact to find out when they'll be releasing Evan?"
    "As I understand it, you'll have to go through the coroner's office first. Someone will have to interpret for you."There was a sound of shuffling papers. "The doctor doesn't speak English."
    "I know Spanish." She'd immersed herself in the language and in the country, believing knowledge was power. For five years she'd studied. She'd learned as much about the history and traditions and social structure of Colombia as she had her own