I managed to find my voice again. “The … festivities ended at five, but you are very, very welcome.” My whole body tingled with the excitement of walking next to her. “You’re one of our featured artists,” I said. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“That’s very kind of you,” she said. I could hear the Northeast in her voice. As I’d read the journal, despite knowing she was from New Jersey, I’d imagined her sounding like me. A born-and-bred Southerner. But now, her—or at least Judith’s—roots were clear.

We’d reached the gallery entrance. Through the glass doors, I could see Oliver behind the information counter, the mural a wall of color and craziness behind him. Taking a deep breath, I pulled open the door and held it wide for the two women.

Oliver looked up as we walked inside, but before he had a chance to say anything, Judith dropped her cane to the floor with a clatter.

“Oh!” She raised both hands to her face. “Where…? How did this…?” She turned to Gloria. “I need to sit,” she said.

Before Gloria could budge from Judith’s side, Oliver raced across the foyer, grabbed a chair from the side wall, and slipped it behind the old woman just in time. Judith nearly fell into it. She pressed her hand to her mouth.

“Do you have some water?” Gloria asked me, and again, Oliver was quicker than I was, producing two small bottles of water from behind the information counter. I seemed to be too numb to move. Oliver unscrewed the top of one of the bottles and handed it to Judith. The second, to Gloria.

“Judith Shipley?” he asked the older woman, as I had only moments earlier.

Judith was drinking from the bottle, her hand shaking wildly, her gaze riveted on the mural.

“Yes,” I answered for her. Yes, she was Judith Shipley, but if I’d had any doubt that she was also Anna Dale, it had been erased the moment she reacted to the mural. I walked to the side of the foyer to grab another of the chairs and carry it over to where we had gathered, and Gloria sat down on it without a word. She looked at Judith with genuine concern in her dark eyes.

“I knew this would be too much for you,” she scolded. “You know you don’t travel well any—”

Judith raised a hand to stop her. “It’s not the travel,” she said. “It’s this mural. I … It’s been so long since I’ve seen it.”

I looked at Oliver to discover he already had his eyes on me. I was sure he had the same questions running through his head that I did. How should we approach this? At this point, was there any danger to Judith in revealing that we knew the truth? And how much did Gloria know?