Her parents never talked about her brother after that. One night, Donna saw her father take the science project and dump it in the metal trash can in the alley. After everyone had gone to bed, she’d crept outside, lifted the clanging lid, retrieved the blue ribbon, and sneaked back into the house. She brushed it off and hid it in the small metal chest that Aunt Elizabeth had given her for her birthday and was designed to hold doll clothes.

She soon added another treasure to the chest—a picture that she’d torn out of her grandmother’s Life magazine of Princess Grace in her wedding gown. Over time, Donna had had to remove things that once had belonged there—her doll’s pink dress, then her blue one, a pair of high-heel shoes, a gold vinyl purse. But Donna had needed to make room for the newspaper clippings when a man named Alan Shepard was the first American to go up into space; the dance card and dried corsage from her junior prom; the back page of a Howard Johnson’s menu where her first boyfriend, Joe, had scribbled: Love you always.

In 1982, when Donna saw the Louis Vuitton in the window of the antiques shop on Newbury Street, she supposed it was only natural that she wanted it—it was the perfect place to hide her grown-up, special things. She wondered if it was ironic that Princess Grace had been killed the week before. And that the fairy tale of each of their lives had ended.

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Wedging the suitcases into the back of the Jeep, Annie suggested going to the Black Dog because it was close by. The walk would require sloshing through some puddles, but Donna said her red boots would protect her. Annie led the way as they traversed the twists and turns of the clamshell walkways, until they finally made it inside the low-ceilinged building that was flying its black Labrador flag despite the rain.

“May we please sit by the fireplace?” Donna asked the young hostess. “I’ve seen enough water views to last me for a while.” Then she marched across the room with the confidence of a city woman who always seemed to know where she was going.

“Well,” Donna said, once they sat at the table and had removed their outerwear, “that was certainly a memorable journey.” She smiled a small smile that did little to reveal her actual thoughts. Dressed in a navy cashmere sweater and gray jeans that once might have been skinny but now hung rather loosely, Donna was rail thin. She also was pale; even the finest Lauder makeup couldn’t mask the marks of time. Perhaps they would have been less noticeable if her hair hadn’t been cut shorter than Annie remembered seeing it.

“Was it rough going?”