My week back at work had passed in a daze. After summer vacation at the lake, the encounter with Norma, and the discovery of the letters, it was hard for me to believe I was assistant director of anything, let alone the education service of an award-winning museum. I drew up the fall schedule for the interns, debated with my boss the pros and cons of evening workshops, led tourists, amateur artists, and retired people from gallery to gallery, while my mind was fixed on Friday afternoon, when I could leave early, go home, pack my overnight bag, and set off. Now, with the light draining from the day and Bach’s two-part inventions ringing around me in the car, time seemed to be moving forward again in fits and starts.

More cropland, more stalled machinery, more unlikely barns. In the eastbound lane a twelve-wheeler slid past, heading for the lower lakes, where fracking was under way. They wait until dusk to send unmarked trucks through with their cargo of water. Tawasentha was the highest of the trio of lakes, and thus far the association had stood firm; but the payment offered was eye-watering, and at the last meeting a quarter of the members had voted in favor. For all I knew, it was only a matter of time before landslides and poisoned groundwater came to us too.

I should be the ideal activist, inspired by how Maddy had faced the unthinkable. Courage could be taken from courage. Imagination could be brought to bear. Where was my imagination? Where was my bravery?

I turned left at the country store and began the claustrophobic ascent up the mountain through National Park forestland, coming to a stop at the single bar gate, the entrance to the lakeshore road. Up rose the thick, spicy scent of the ferns. A bearded man appeared on the stoop of the caretaker’s bungalow and, as he swung open the gate, I was overcome by misgivings I should have been prey to all along. Was I out of my mind? I did not want to see anyone. She was probably not even there. But I could hardly turn around now, so I stepped on the gas and drove through with a wave. The caretakers came and went. Who could live for long in that exposed place, close enough to smell the lake but not to see it?

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