“The piano’s a nice touch,” Ross said, heading for the gleaming white baby grand that was positioned by the floor-to-ceiling bookcases. “We’ll have someone playing it at the cocktail party.”

“No, you won’t,” Hannah said, lifting the lid to find absolutely nothing inside. “It’s just a shell.”

“That’s okay. We’ll mix in the sound later. As long as there’s a keyboard, someone can pretend to play.”

When they’d finished exploring the formal living room and spotted the desk that would be used for the suicide scene, Hannah and Ross headed back out to the hallway to open the second door.

“It’s straight out of The Student Prince,” Hannah breathed, eyeing the bedroom with its delft blue walls, white curtains, and white furniture. “Is this Amy’s room?”

“Yes. See that cushion on the dormer window?”

Hannah nodded. It was the only jarring note in the room. The cushion was bright orange.

“That’s for Moishe. Amy bought it so he’d have a spot to sit and watch the birds. Her father threw it in the trash because it didn’t match the rest of her room, but Jody retrieved it and gave it back to her on the day of their father’s funeral.”

“Sounds like a nasty man.”

“He was.”

Hannah stopped for a moment and then she began to frown. “Who’s playing the father in the movie? I haven’t met him yet.”

“And you won’t. The father is done entirely in voice-over. I wanted it that way for impact. We never get to see him, therefore we can’t find anything about him to like.”

“Interesting,” Hannah said.

“I just hope it’ll work. It’s always a gamble, casting villains. If they overplay the evil, they can be almost comical. And if they’re a bit too nice, the audience sympathizes with them. That’s why I decided to try a more radical approach. The father appears only in Amy’s mind. That should make him larger than life, more menacing, and totally unsympathetic. It also gives me an escape hatch, because it’s the father in her mind, not the real father.”

Hannah thought about that for a minute, and then she smiled. “It sounds like good reasoning to me. But I’m not a filmmaker and you are.”

“I just hope it’s not too hokey. If it is, it’ll be a simple matter to take out all but the most critical scenes and cast someone quickly.”

“When will you know?”

“By dailies on Friday night. Do you want to come out and watch them with me? Sally’s got us set up in the bar.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Hannah said, thoroughly fascinated by the concept.

“Okay. Let’s go tell your mother and Carrie what we think.”

“Fine. I think it’s fantastic, but you’re the producer. What do you think?”

“I think it’s fantastic, too.”