Tully was worried about Kate and Marah. For most of the past week, she’d tried to figure out how to fix things between them, but nothing had come to her. Now she was at her desk, looking over her script notes for today.

Her phone rang. It was her assistant. “Tully. The McAdamses are here. From the rehab show.”

“Send them in.”

The couple that walked through her door on that icy November morning bore only the most surface resemblance to the people who’d been on her first live show. Mr. McAdams had lost at least twenty pounds and no longer walked hunched over, with his head pulled down into his shoulders. Mrs. McAdams had cut her hair, put on makeup, and was smiling. “Wow,” Tully said, “you two look great. Please, sit down.”

Mr. McAdams held his wife’s hand. Together they sat down on the expensive black leather sofa that faced the windows. “We’re sorry to bother you. We know how busy you are.”

“I’m never too busy for friends,” Tully said, giving them her PR smile. Hitching one leg over the end of her desk, she looked down at them.

“We just wanted to say thank you,” Mrs. McAdams said. “I don’t know if you know anyone with a drug or alcohol problem . . .”

Tully’s smile faded. “I do, actually.”

“We can be mean and selfish and angry and resistant. I wanted to change. Lord knows, I wanted to quit every day, but I didn’t. Until you put the spotlight on me and I actually saw my life.”

“You can’t imagine how you’ve helped us,” Mr. McAdams said. “We just wanted to say thank you.”

Tully was so moved by their words it took her a moment to respond. “That’s what I wanted to do with the live show: change someone’s life. It means a lot to me that it worked.”

Her phone rang.

“Excuse me.” She answered it. “What is it?”

“John is on line one, Tully.”

“Thanks. Put him through.” When he came on the line, she said, “Too lazy to walk fifty feet to my office? You must be getting old, Johnny.”

“I need to talk to you, and not over the phone. Can I buy you a beer?”

“Where and when?”

“Virginia Inn?”

She laughed. “God, I haven’t been there in years.”

“Liar. Come to my office at three-thirty.”

She hung up the phone and turned her attention back to the McAdamses, who were standing now.

“Well,” Mr. McAdams said, “we’ve said what we came to. I hope you can help other folks like you’ve done for us.”

She went to them, shook their hands. “Thank you. If you don’t mind, can I schedule a follow-up show for next year? To show America your progress.”

“Sure.”