Allison closed the bedroom door behind her and sank onto the bed. I’m a big girl. I’m not going to cry, she told herself. Burke had made an honest mistake, something that happened from time to time, especially when he was tired or stressed. Maybe this time, it was talking about the boat that had triggered the name.

She couldn’t blame him. After all, how many parents mixed up their children’s names, even though they knew better? Burke’s calling her by his first wife’s name was no more than an innocent slip of the tongue.

But his timing couldn’t have been worse!

She didn’t want to go back and face him, but it was too early to go to bed. Anyway, she was too upset to sleep. Going to the closet, she switched her slippers for her running shoes. After throwing on a warm jacket, she stole downstairs to the back door. She needed to work off a serious case of angst.

She hit the path running—not a good idea in near darkness. Her sneaker caught a broken spot in the asphalt pavement. She twisted her ankle and went down hard.

For a moment she lay still, her breath coming in gasps, the tears springing to her eyes. You’re all right, she told herself. It just hurts, that’s all.

That pretty much summed up her life tonight.

Recovering, she sat up and moved her limbs cautiously. Nothing appeared broken. But her hands were skinned, her knees bruised, and her twisted ankle felt tender when she stood and put weight on it.

Idiot, she chastised herself. Why hadn’t she brought a flashlight, or at least had the sense to slow down? She took a few careful steps. The ankle felt all right, and she didn’t want to go back to the house yet. It wouldn’t hurt to walk a little farther.

She hadn’t told Burke or Brianna where she was going, but they both knew she liked to walk along the lakeshore. They probably wouldn’t even miss her.

She moved along the path, favoring her ankle. A great horned owl, huge in the darkness, swooped low over her head, then glided away, as if the creature had seen her limping, thought she might be prey, then decided she’d be too heavy to carry off. The thought—ludicrous as it was—brought an ironic smile to Allison’s lips.

By now the moon had come up, reflecting like a gold coin in the black water. By its light, she could see the old wooden pier, stretching its length out into the lake. Balancing carefully, she walked out to the end of it and stood there, feeling the night chill on her face, hearing the cry of a loon and watching the ripples spread where a fish jumped.