"Open your heart," she said gently. "Someone will come. Someone will come for you. But first you must open your heart." The door closed. The sunlight disappeared. Someone will come. Edward's heart stirred. He thought, for the first time in a long time, of the house on Egypt Street and of Abilene winding his watch and then bending toward him and placing it on his left leg, saying, "I will come home to you." No, no, he told himself. Don't believe it. Don't let yourself believe it. But it was too late. Someone will come for you. The China rabbit's heart had begun, again, to open.