She loved Barbie, too. Barbie had been the one to drive her home from the hospital. Barbie and her boyfriend had also helped her purchase a cheap, nondescript car, since hers had been totaled, and she hadn’t wanted to spend a lot on a vehicle if she was only going to end up flying home to Iowa. But Tia hadn’t talked to her since she’d told Barbie she’d be house-sitting in Silver Springs for the holidays. She’d been afraid any more detailed information would bring Barbie out to check on her, and she’d just wanted to be left alone.

As she scrolled up and down, picking and choosing which voice mails to listen to, she heard messages from several people who’d worked on the film with her. Christian, her costar, had called a couple of times.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about what happened,” he said, his voice deeper than almost any she’d ever heard. “Call me if you need to talk. Johnny and I would love to have you over, if that’s even a possibility.”

She really liked him and his partner, but she didn’t want him to see her like this. The same thing held true for her other film-industry friends. They’d also tried to wish her well, but she hadn’t responded, and they’d moved on with their lives. She hadn’t been close enough to those people for them to do much else.

Maxi, however, was a notable exception. “You’re not shutting me out, Tia. Answer the damn phone.” Next call: “Answer your phone, or I’m going to hunt you down. I’m worried about you.” Next call: “I’m watching the news, and I can see the paparazzi trying to break down the gate at your condominium complex. What the hell is wrong with people?” Next call: “I’ll be in LA on Friday. I’m coming to see you whether you like it or not.”

She smiled as she remembered how he’d made good on that promise. He’d sweet-talked someone in the complex into letting him through the gate by pretending to be a potential buyer for one of the units, at which point he’d gone around back, hopped the fence to get to her patio and banged on the slider. “Tia, it’s Maxi. Open the fucking door,” he’d said, and she’d done it.

That was when he’d offered her the use of his property in Silver Springs.

She deleted those messages and moved on.

Her sister: “Is it true? You’re not coming home? You haven’t learned your lesson? What more does God have to do to direct your footsteps?”

Wincing, Tia deleted that one. She and Rachel had always struggled to get along, and what’d happened not long before the accident hadn’t brought them any closer.