She was still mulling over Ocky’s attitude and even entertaining the idea that just maybe she was over her crush on Ocky as she settled in at home in front of her computer. The unfinished Finders Keepers questionnaire seemed to wink at her. What was she waiting for? Other women were lamenting time away from their loved ones to exercise. She only had work as an obstacle.

She stubbed her toe on the way back to the kitchen for a second bottle of cold water. It wasn’t the first time she’d nearly tripped over the boxes of Finders Keepers: the Early Years records. Feeling grumpy, she surveyed the crowded living room. She knew Ocky’s garage was full to the hilt, but honestly, this was ridiculous. Something had to change.

“I swear,” she told her computer monitor as she opened her e-mail, “I will not turn forty and still have significant pieces of furnishing supported by cinder blocks.”

She checked her messages, telling herself she wasn’t hoping to see something from Linda. There wasn’t and she told herself it didn’t matter.

There was, however, a message from the man who had taken all the photos of their adventure. He apologized for the delay in sending them out to everybody. Marissa quickly sent back an effusive thank you and downloaded the zip file.

She was smiling when she opened the first one—there it was, their doomed ship looking so bright and unsinkable. The next photo was the lifeboat. It looked so small. She spotted herself in the last row. She didn’t remember being that far back. She’d gotten the second-to-last seat on the boat, it appeared. Had she been any slower getting to the emergency station she’d have been in a different one.

Just in front of her, of course, looking alive and lovely and tall and strong and all good things there could be in a woman, was Linda.

She zoomed in on Linda’s face and realized she’d forgotten Linda’s precise features as a whole. The mouth she remembered perfectly as she did Linda’s eyes. Her hands remembered the texture of Linda’s hair even if she’d forgotten how richly dark it was. Her fingertips tingled with the memory of Linda’s skin even if she’d not remembered the perfect olive tone.

What had happened? Why hadn’t Linda been in touch? May was just around the corner.

Clicking forward she found the photo of Linda, body stretched and taut as she made her way up the cliff. Her legs were impossibly long, her arms impossibly powerful but Marissa knew they were real. She’d felt both around her.

Her stomach growled and she wanted to have a second dinner. She was so tired of being hungry. Trying to do something with her hands that didn’t involve opening the marcona almonds, she decided she’d weigh herself, which was always a mistake at the end of the day.

Predictably, the scale said she’d gained a pound in the course of her starvation. Something inside her broke and she stomped hard on the stupid thing before smacking both fists equally painfully onto the wall. The little print of wildflowers slipped off the nail and she cut her big toe on a shard of glass.