She hears the key turning in the lock. Too late. With the last of her breath she cries, "You can. With the last of her breath she cries, "You can. Philip, you must. Don't let me die." Philip, you must. Don't let me die."

With an anguished scream, he drops the pillow and falls down on top of her. She wraps her arms and falls down on top of her. She wraps her arms around him as he sobs. around him as he sobs.

Evvie looks up startled to see Gladdy rushing into the room. With her, Morrie and four other policemen with drawn guns. into the room. With her, Morrie and four other policemen with drawn guns.

Though her throat feels raw, Evvie calls out, "Don't shoot. This isn't Philip. It's Ray. His name "Don't shoot. This isn't Philip. It's Ray. His name is Ray." is Ray."

FIFTY-TWO.

LEAVING.

WILMINGTON HOUSE.

We almost make it out of Wilmington House without anyone knowing, but a few light sleepers do get up and stare in shock as Philip Smythe is marched out wearing handcuffs. I'm sure they are equally astonished at our little parade-Morrie, Oz, and their men walk behind Smythe with guns drawn. The new "resident," Donald Kincaid, follows them. And Gladys Gold-what is she doing there? Hovering in the doorway is Hope Watson, wringing her hands.

When shivering Evvie is led out, with a blanket covering her, Hope Watson runs to her and hugs her. "You brave girl. You knew all along. You put yourself in harm's way to save one of our other guests from being murdered. Someone should give you a medal!"

Evvie is too numb to respond.h.e.l.lo? I'm standing here, too. Hope ignores me. After all, what did I do? Nothing except listen to her harangues and take her verbal abuse.

All the way home, Evvie and I sit in the backseat of Morrie's police car, clutching each other and crying. Morrie and Oz sit up front, quietly talking.

"You were right about him," Evvie says through her sobs.

"You were right, too. Ray was a wonderful man. It was Philip who committed murder."

"I'll never see him again, will I?"

We both know the answer to that.

"Glad, forgive me. I'm so sorry for all the terrible things I said."

"I'll forgive you, if you forgive me."

Evvie manages to laugh. "Can you imagine the gossip at breakfast tomorrow? No Philip and now no Donald. The two best dancers in the bunch."

Her laughter turns into hysteria. I laugh and cry with her.

When we arrive at Lanai Gardens, it must be nearly three a.m. Out of the darkness I see a patch of color. As we get closer, there they are, under the lamplight, my girls, waiting up as they said they would. They're seated on a bench dressed in warm sweaters, with blankets over them, huddled to gether to keep them warm in the cool night air. Ida holds a flashlight and waves it toward us. There is no one else around in the quiet darkness.Morrie pulls up. Oz gets out and opens the rear door for us. The girls look at me, worriedly. I nod and smile. Oz helps Evvie out of the car.

For a moment she looks at them, and they at her. Then, in a rush, the girls are on her, hugging and kissing and sobbing. They won't let go of her, nor she of them.

"We were so worried." Sophie pats her hair.

"We thought we'd never see you again." Bella touches her face.

"We love you." Ida kisses her cheek.

I join the group hug. "Welcome home." From all of us.

Evvie looks exhausted. Ida starts to move her. "She needs to rest."

"But we'll see you for breakfast?" Sophie needs to know.

"Of course," Evvie says, trying for enthusiasm. "Don't I have to hear all about what I missed?"

They help her to the elevator. Morrie holds me back for a moment.

"You are amazing, Gladdy Gold. Disobedient, but amazing."

"Not according to Hope Watson." I grimace.

"You're my hero, too," adds Oz.

They both hug me and I head for the elevator.

"I'm sorry about-" Morrie breaks off.

I turn. "Don't . . . But thanks for caring."

FIFTY-THREE.

THE MORNING AFTER.

The girls eagerly peer through my screen door, and I tell them to let Evvie sleep some more and come for lunch instead. She slept at my place last night, not wanting to be alone At nine a.m. their time, I phone Alvin and Shirley Ferguson in Seattle to tell them the case is over. Philip Smythe has been arrested.

"I knew it! He killed her, didn't he?" Alvin demands.

I hear Shirley in the background. "It can't be; he wouldn't kill her."

"You're both right," I say. "Does the term split personality mean anything to you? I'll send you a written report with all the details. The police will be in touch with you. They may want you to come back here to give your statement."

Shirley has grabbed the phone. "Can you sell those clothes back to the shop?"

"We'll see what we can do."

"If not, mail them to me. I'm sure they'll fit."

Sure. In your dreams, cheapskate. "Whatever."

Evvie wakes up right after my call. She comes into the kitchen wearing my bathrobe. She looks beyond weary. I hand her a cup of coffee. "Did you sleep?"

"Off and on. I had nightmares. It's beginning to really hit me now."

"Yes. And it will for quite a while."

We're both stiff with each other and we know it. The harsh words said-the hurts won't go away that quickly.

She sits down at the kitchen table warming her hands with the coffee cup. "A hundred things run through my mind. Some of them stupid, like how can I face anyone after the way I behaved?"

"Simple," I say. "Take a page from Hope Watson. We'll tell everyone you knew all along. The girls won't betray you. And you did figure it out yourself. That was so smart of you."

She grimaces. "Almost too late."

She starts to get up, but I bring the coffeepot back. I pour.

"Glad, what else did you find out about him? He killed other women, didn't he. I need to know."

"Not now. Later. We'll have lots to talk about."

She sees the troubled look in my eyes and lets it go.

Her eyes tear up. "How do I hide my broken heart? I loved him. If you could have seen how he was when he was Ray. Everything I could ever want in a man. He was wonderful."

I want to tell her someone else might come along. But it's not the right thing to say. Not now. Maybe never. Besides, I'm not sure I believe it.

She puts her head in her hands. "I can't bear it. How could I have been so easily fooled?"

"He fooled me. He fooled everyone. For years and years. Try not to be so hard on yourself."

I offer her some toast. She shakes her head. "My life is over."

"What are you talking about? Don't be ridiculous."

"All my life I've lived this fantasy, and my fantasy came true. But it was all smoke and mirrors. It was never real. I have nothing to live for anymore. Nothing but memories, turned sour."

For a moment, I remember Evvie in her gorgeous red gown, dancing with Philip, looking beautiful and ecstatically happy. I want to cry for her.

I sit down in the chair next to her and pull her hands away. "Don't say that. You have me. And the girls. And your family."

And I think of a conversation when she said that to me when I first met Jack. It didn't work then and it won't work now.

"It's not enough. It never was. And it can't be ever again. I know what I've lost forever; nothing will be any good."

You'll have to grieve, Evvie, as if he died. You'll have to accept that torn piece in you forever. But I won't say it.

There is a pounding on the door and eager faces grin at us through the kitchen window.

"Evvie, I know how bad you feel, but if you just try to act like your normal self, maybe the old you will just kick in. Make an effort?"

"We brought lunch." Sophie waves a bag at us. I look at Evvie. She nods.

"Come on in," I call back at them.

I whisper to Evvie, "Will you be all right?"

"Sure," she says woefully. "You know what a good actress I am."

The girls plow in, emptying bags on the counter. Sandwiches from the deli. Dr. Brown black cherry sodas. They are so happy to see her.

Evvie manages a smile. "Forgive me if I'm not too perky. Not enough rest." She digs around the choices. "Where's the pastrami?"

In a few minutes, everyone has chosen their lunch and we sit around the dining room table noshing away. The girls don't comment on the fact that Evvie is barely eating.

"Catch me up," Evvie says.

"Where do we begin?" Bella is all atwitter. "My favorite is when the Peeper finally got caught."

"He did? Who was it?"

Sophie laughs. "You'll never guess. Your old boyfriend."

I see Evvie wince at that word, but she pulls up, fast. "Not Sol?"