I should go, he says abruptly into the cell phone.

Me, too. Kylah sounds reluctant, though. Do you want me to wait up for you, or are you going to be homereally late?

His jaw clenches so hard the tension radiates painfully into his neck. Dont wait up.

On Thursday evening, Ca.s.sie finds herself driving along Interstate 95 to her bridal shower,alone which is absolutely fine with her.

Her brother Marcuss wife, Reenie, is taking the train up from the city with Ca.s.sies aunt Kitty. Regina will pick them up at the station in New Haven, armed with concise directions to Tammys house.

Are you sure you wont just ride along with us? her mother asked earlier, as she jangled her car keys impatiently and kept looking at the clock.

No, Ive got a big day at the hospital tomorrow. If I leave a little later it will give me a chance to go over some research materials my attending gave me yesterday.

And it will give her a much-needed reprieve from her mother.

Spending almost twelve straight waking hours in the company of Regina Ashford has been enough to make Ca.s.sie wish she hadnt opted to take off today after all.

They went from breakfast to shopping to lunch to an early moviean art-house screening of a foreign doc.u.mentary Ca.s.sie wouldnt have been interested in seeing even if it was in English. Which it wasnt.

Or even if it had subt.i.tles Which it didnt.

Whats the problem? You took several years of French in school, Ca.s.sandra, her mother reminded her.

Thats true. Shetook it. She just didnt necessarilyretain it.

She tried to doze through the movie, but her thoughts kept wandering to the shower tonight.

And to the wedding next month.

And to the rest of her life.

Herlife?

Hah.

She turns up the volume on the radioBono wailing about something profound, not loveand looks at the greenEXIT sign ahead. Is it this one? Or the next?

She hopes its the next.

It isnt.

So, here goes. She can do this. She has to do this. What else is there?

Just take it one day at a time,she tells herself, and ignores the burgeoning seedling of an idea that was somehow planted in her mind weeks ago.

She flicks on her turn signal to get over to the right lane, glances in the rearview mirror, and starts to merge.

A deafening blast from a mighty horn startles her.

She just nearly cut off a double semi.

Swerving back into the middle lane, Ca.s.sie is shaken as the semi barrels past on the right, the trucker in the cab shaking his head.

She could have been killed.

Her hands tremble on the wheel.

Her life pretty much flashed before her eyes in that instant.

Not merely the life shes already lived, but the life shes got left to live.

In one terrifying moment, she saw it all.

Terrifying.

Because of the truck.

Yes, of course.

Thank G.o.d shes all right. Shaken, but all right.

Theres anotherEXIT sign; only a half mile now.

She has to get over to the right.

This time, Ca.s.sie cautiously turns her head to see if theres room.

There isnt.

Rush hour. A steady line of cars blocks the right lane.

The exit is coming up.

In the rearview mirror she sees an SUV driver right on her b.u.mper, flashing his lights impatiently. Oh. Shes going only 55. Much too slowly for this busy stretch of the northeast corridor, where the wealthy and importantand sometimes merely self-importantdrive fast, fancy cars in blatant disregard for the posted speed limit.

Ca.s.sie picks up her speed a little, signal still on, but she cant seem to merge right.

Dammit. Shes going to miss the exit.

And then what?

Then youll turn around at the next one and go back. Thats what.

Or Or what?she asks herself impatiently. Youll turn around and go back at the next exit. What else is there to do?

A sedan to her right flashes its lights. Oh, for Petes sake. Now shes going too slow for people driving alongside her?

The driver waves at her.

Oh Hes letting her into the lane ahead of him.

Youre not going to miss the exit after all.

Go.

GO!.

And she does.

But not to the right lane, and the exit.

The seedling has taken hold, its burgeoning tendrils winding their way into her soul.

Her foot pressing down on the gas pedal as if of its own accord, Ca.s.sandra Ashford speeds on ahead in the middle lane.

Heading toward Boston.

CHAPTER 9.

As she steers the BMW sharply around the corner onto Tamarack Lane, Fiona is harried.

So what else is new?

Her mind is on the half dozen phone calls she needs to return before she runs home to change before leaving to meet James Bingham in Boston.

First, of course, she has to stop at the Saddlers to drop off Ashley, whos sitting beside her in the pa.s.sengers seat.

Ashley protested when Fiona told her to climb into the front; the backseat was crowded with client files and her laptop.

Daddy said Im not allowed in front until Im twelve. He said its against the law. Ashleys dark eyes, so like her fathers, flashed with accusation.

Yeah, well, Daddy also claims youre still supposed to be riding around in a booster seat, Fiona muttered.

I am. Till Im bigger and taller.

Thats ridiculous. Youre not a baby. You dont need a booster seat.

Daddy makes me use one.

Daddys an a.s.s,Fiona wanted to retort.

Shes been saying precisely thatif only to herselfall day, flying from meeting to conference call to meeting in her usual mad whirlwind. d.a.m.n Patrick for refusing to take their daughter tonight.

She hates the fact that she has to rely on Brynn. Of course Brynn doesnt mind, and Ashley squealed with delight when Fiona told her she was spending the night there. She loves to play with Brynns boys.

Still Fee has done her best to avoid Brynn these last few weeks. Ever since the lunch they shared with Ca.s.sie and Tildy.

She has no interest in living in the past And Brynn, shes starting to realize, is a part of the past.

Fiona is moving on.

Moving on, and up. She wants to forget where shes come fromall of it.

James Bingham can help her accomplish that.

Brynn cannot.

But Brynn can help me with Ashley tonight. Right now, thats what I need.

Uh-oh.

What is it, Ashley? she asks, slowing before the Saddlers driveway.

I forgot my toothbrush.

How could you forget? I reminded you right before we left.

I know, but I just forgot.

Youre not going to get far in this world if you dont learn to be more organized, Ashley. Fiona sighs. Ill have to tell Brynn to take you out to the drugstore or something and get you one.

Cant we just go back for mine?

Fiona shakes her head. No time.

But I dont want to make Brynn go out.

She wont mind.

What if she does?

She doesnt.What else has she got to do?

But Trust me, Ashley. Okay?

Okay, Ashley tells her mother. But she doesnt.

Trust her, that is.

Sometimes, she thinks Mom just makes stuff up to make things easier for herself. Daddy says its what she does.

Actually, Daddy mostly thinks Mom makes stuff up just to make things harder for him. Which might be true, because Mom hates Daddy.