Izzy didn’t, but she felt pressure to give the answer her mother expected. Life was always simpler when things were the way her mother expected, so she’d nodded, and hadn’t admitted that she loved the place with a passion. Not just the lake, but the Lodge. She loved the large windows and her turret bedroom with its views over the lake. She loved the fact that the house was lived in. The deep sofas were slightly worn, the furniture scuffed. Aunt Clare never expected you to take your shoes off or eat and drink only in the kitchen. It was a house that welcomed dogs and muddy boots, laughter and life in all its messy glory. Izzy was able to relax in a way she was never able to relax in her own home. In Brooklyn they basically lived in the kitchen and the bedrooms. The elegant living space was reserved for her parents and entertaining. In the Lakes there wasn’t a single room that was out-of-bounds.

And then there was the enormous garden, with its deep, dark corners and tangle of ancient trees. The star of the show was the giant horse chestnut with its sturdy branches perfect for climbing. Izzy loved the lake with its glassy surface and deep sense of mystery. Most of all she loved the boathouse. She’d often wondered what it would be like to live somewhere like that. Maybe she wasn’t a city person.

And it wasn’t only the place she loved, it was the people.

When they were little, Izzy and Aiden would sneak out of bed and sit at the top of the stairs, listening to the clink of glasses and the musical sound of adult laughter. It had sounded so grown-up to Izzy, who had longed to be old enough to join them. Aiden had said it would probably be boring, but she didn’t think so. Her mother and Clare had been at school together and were still best friends. Izzy envied their closeness. Every other sentence seemed to start with Do you remember that time...

Izzy wondered about that as she sat feeling isolated with her supposedly best friends. She tried to project herself forward ten years and imagine herself saying Do you remember that time...but her brain wouldn’t play the game. She didn’t want to remember this time.