The icy wind threatened to freeze the tears in her eyes but she endured the cold a little longer. Only the weather was chilled. Inside her heart, down the length of her spine, Linda felt hot and alive, the way she had during the most intense moments of the shipwreck. Except now she had the feeling most of the time—and she loved it.

Living in the present, thinking about the future—that was why she was here. The past would need occasional attention but it no longer controlled her choices. She would make mistakes. She’d talk to Dr. Kirkland again and no doubt at length. But she and no one else would be responsible for her life from now on.

The fire was reassuringly crackling as she lifted the first of three boxes onto the long library table in the middle of the study. Not the course books, not yet. She upended the box and watched as hundreds and hundreds of photographs spilled across the dark surface.

There had been a time when she couldn’t bear to look at herself in these pictures. Revulsion and dread fascination had warred until she had convinced herself the girl in the photos was a stranger. But teenage Linda was part of her.

She lifted one eight-by-ten to study the expressive face. Teenage Linda’s disconnection from the pain in her life was complete as none of it showed in the glowing dark eyes or the elegant curve of full crimson lips.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the girl she had been. “You survived and now we’re here, in our future.” She tenderly touched an image of hair burnished to a shimmer. “Thank you for being strong enough to endure.”

She spent the next two days snowshoeing in the mornings and picking over photographs in the afternoons. She had every intention of publishing the book even if she paid for it herself and printed only a dozen copies. It was a record. The remainder of the photographs needed to be put in some kind of order and then she would find some place to store them where, if she wanted to, she could look at the past. There could be a time in her life when she wanted to do so again.

With the weather predicted to bring in a late March four-foot snowfall, she decided it was time to see the little town of Big Sky and get some fresh food. The Range Rover handled the steep inclines going down as easily as it had coming up. The town was packed with snow enthusiasts and showed signs of recent and extensive growth. She found the grocery Matt had directed her to—one of two available—and was mostly pleased with the choices.

“Are you sure you want that cheese?” The checker’s question was directed at a nondescript lump of mild cheddar.

“Yes,” Linda said hesitantly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, I see greens, kalamata olives, red onion and no feta. You can’t have Greek salad without feta.” Linda was regarded with a motherly gaze.