Juliet knew her house was extraordinary—a slender, four-story structure of dark wood and glass. It was an upside-down house—The ground floor had a beautiful entryway, a mudroom, a family room, a game or craft room, depending on the girls’ interests, and Oliver’s study. The second floor held the bedrooms—four of them, three full baths, as well as a cozy reading room with couches where she and Oliver read to the girls at night, or where they now read to themselves. The third floor held the huge kitchen, dining room and Juliet’s spacious office, complete with antique drafting table and a huge desk for her computer monitors.

And the fourth story was what Brianna, then age four, had dubbed the sky room. One giant room on the entire floor. The view was so vast that on a clear day, you could see the very tip of Long Island. It was a gorgeous place to watch storms, the lightning crackling from sky to ocean, or the snow blowing against the windows, making you feel as safe and charmed as the heroine in a fairy tale. The pièce de résistance was a rooftop deck with cable railings and a retractable awning, couches and lounge chairs, a small bar and outdoor kitchen, and planters bursting with whatever annuals struck Juliet’s fancy that year.

It was clearly an architect’s house, meant both to impress visitors and shelter and nurture the family. This party was intended to remind people that the Frost-Smitherington family was here, that they cared about the neighborhood and community. That she was a Frost of the Stoningham Frosts. Barb’s daughter.

It should’ve been nice. It usually was, hostess nerves aside.

But this year, Juliet wasn’t feeling it. She stood in the sky room, feeling awkward and alone and hoping it didn’t show. Oliver was laughing with some of his work friends—one woman was standing awfully close and tossing her hair. Should she go over and make a claim, slide her arm around his waist and say, “Back off, bitch?” Was that how her father’s affair had started, with someone from work? Who was that practically drooling on Oliver? Had Juliet ever met her? Oh, now she was laying her hand on Oliver’s arm, and was he doing a damn thing about it? No.

“Juliet, what a lovely party, as always!” Saanvi Talwar, their neighbor and Juliet’s almost friend, smiled as she hugged her. “Now that Genevieve is gone, you’re taking over as Stoningham’s most beloved hostess.”

Shit, I hope not. “So glad to see you, Saanvi. How are things at the hospital?”

“Oh, God, the insurance companies are killing medicine as we know it, but we soldier on!”

“Well, I’m sure you’re doing great work. Did you try the dumplings? Make sure you do. I think you’ll love them.”