Before the documentary, the public respected Tully Hart. Afterward, they adored her. She graced the cover of People and Us in the same week. The documentary—and segments from it—were played and replayed on entertainment news shows. America, it seemed, couldn’t get enough of Tully Hart.

But while everyone was watching Tully and the sad encounter with her estranged mother, Kate saw something else entirely on that tape, and she watched it just as obsessively.

She couldn’t help noticing the way Johnny looked at Tully at the end, when Cloud’s disappearance was revealed, the way he’d gone to her and taken her in his arms.

And then there was the quiet talk Tully and Johnny had had out at Sunshine Farms. They’d edited out whatever words had been exchanged and gone to an establishing shot of the commune, but Kate couldn’t help wondering what they’d said to each other.

She studied their body language like a primatologist, but in the end she had only what she’d had in the beginning: two old friends working together on an emotional documentary and a wife who’d worried for a long time about them.

That should have been the end of it. If nothing else had happened, Kate would have boxed up her old jealousies and put them away again, just as she’d done dozens of times over the years.

But something had happened.

Syndiworld, the second largest syndication company in the world, had seen the documentary and offered Tully her own one-hour show, of which she would be a majority interest owner.

The idea had rocked Tully’s world, offered her a way to be herself on camera, to show the world who she really was and how she really felt. No more three A.M. start times, either. The minute she heard the idea, she said it was exactly what she needed, but even so, she’d put down two conditions: first, they had to shoot in Seattle; second, John Ryan had to be her producer. Neither of these had she bothered to clear with her friends.

Kate and Johnny had been on the back porch, talking over drinks after a long day, when the first phone call had come in.

Johnny had laughed at Tully’s offer, told her to find a producer who specialized in prima donnas.

Then Tully mentioned a salary in the millions.

Now, two days later, Kate sure as hell wasn’t laughing. She and Johnny were in the living room, trying to keep their voices down because the kids were in bed. Tully was back in New York, no doubt sitting by the phone, waiting to see if once again she’d get her way.

“I don’t know why you’re fighting me on this, Katie,” Johnny said, pacing in front of the window. “It will change our lives.”

“What’s wrong with our life now?”