“He’s looking for you?”

“No, he thinks I’m dead. Nearly nine months now. I’d rather be dead than live the way I was living. That sounds melodramatic, but—”

“No, it doesn’t. The employment forms you filled out for me? Are they safe?”

“Yes. My grandmother’s maiden name. I broke some laws. Computer hacking, false statement, forged documents to get new identification, a driver’s license, Social Security number.”

“Computer hacking?” Lifting a brow, Mia smiled. “Nell, you surprise me.”

“I’m good with computers. I used to—”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s all right. I helped run a business, a catering business, with my mother a long time ago. I used a computer for records, invoices, what have you. Since I was going to keep the books, the records, I took some courses. When I started planning to run, I did a lot of research. I knew I’d only get one chance. God. I’ve never been able to talk to anyone about it. I never thought I could.”

“Do you want to tell me the rest?”

“I’m not sure. It gets stuck somewhere. Right about here,” she said, tapping a fist on her chest.

“If you decide you want to, come up to the house tonight. I’ll show you my gardens. My cliffs. Meanwhile, take a breather, take a walk, take a nap.”

“Mia, I’d like to finish in the café. Not because I’m upset or worried. I’d just like to finish.”

“All right.”

The drive up the coast was breathtaking. The curving road with its sudden, unexpected twists. The steady roar of the water, the rush of wind. The memories it brought back should have disturbed her, left her shaken. Instead as Nell pushed her poor rust-bucket of a car for speed, she felt exhilarated. As if she were leaving all her excess weight on the twisted road behind her.

Maybe it was the sight of that tall white tower against the summer sky and the broody stone house beside it. They looked like something out of a storybook. Old and sturdy and wonderfully secret.

The painting she’d seen on the mainland hadn’t done them justice. Oil and canvas hadn’t been able to translate the sweep of the wind, the texture of the rocks, the gnarled humps of trees.

And, she thought as she rounded the last turn, the painting hadn’t had Mia, standing between two vivid flows of flowers in a blue dress with her miles of red hair rioting in the wind.

Nell parked her sad car behind Mia’s shiny silver convertible.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” Nell called out.

“I always take things the right way.”

“I was just thinking, if I were a man, I’d promise you anything.”