By the spring of 2003, she was exhausted, worn down by the violence. When she finally returned home, it wasn’t much better. Everywhere she went she was in a crowd, and nowhere did she feel more isolated than in a group of people who fawned over her, and sucked up to her, but didn’t really know her.

Although no one who watched her on television would notice it, she was quietly coming undone. Grant hadn’t called her in almost four months, and the last time they’d spoken before that it hadn’t gone well.

I just don’t want what you want, love, he’d said, not even bothering to look sad when he said it.

And what is that? she’d snapped back, surprised to feel tears sting her eyes.

What you always want: more.

It shouldn’t have surprised her. God knew she’d heard the same thing often enough in her life. She could even admit the truth of it. She did want more lately. She wanted a real life, not this perfect, glittery cotton candy one she’d created for herself.

But she had no real idea how to go about starting over at her age. She loved her job too much to give it up; besides, she’d been famous and rich for so long that she couldn’t imagine being ordinary again.

Now, beneath a surprisingly warm sun, she walked down the busy streets of Manhattan, watching the fast-moving locals dodging between brightly dressed tourists. Today was the first sunny day after a long snowy winter, and nothing changed the mood of New York like the sun. People poured out of their boxy apartments, put on their walking shoes, and went outside. To her right, Central Park was a green oasis. For a moment, when she looked at it, she saw her own past: the Quad at UW; kids running around, throwing Frisbees, playing hacky sack. It had been twenty years since she’d left the campus for the last time. So much life had happened in those years, but right now it all felt as close as her own shadow.

Smiling, she shook her head to clear it. She’d have to call Katie tonight and tell her about this senior moment.

She was just about to start walking again when she saw him.

Down a low green hillside, standing on the paved path, watching two teenage girls roller-skate around him.

“Chad.”

It was the first time she’d said his name aloud in years and it tasted as sweet as almond liquor. Just the sight of him peeled back the carapace of years and made her feel young again.

She walked down to the start of the path and turned toward him. A huge tree spread out above her like an umbrella, blocking out the sunlight, making her instantly cold.