The original owner of the camp had tried to make a go of it, but he had failed for one very important reason: He hadn’t included the residents. George and Eby had succeeded where he had failed because they knew that what you lost is as much a part of you as what you found. They knew that the lake was a part of Suley history, and they always welcomed the residents out.

And that was why the town had come here today, to Eby’s party.

Even though most residents didn’t know why they were the way they were, they all knew they were connected in some way. Losing Eby meant losing Lost Lake. And losing Lost Lake meant losing a part of themselves, a very old piece to a crumbling puzzle.

*   *   *

Selma heard the noise growing outside and turned up the volume on her Billie Holiday CD. There were dozens of men out there, married men. She could feel them, a prickling sensation along her skin, like goose bumps. She gave up trying to ignore them, checked her makeup, then left her cabin.

It took more effort to make an entrance these days. When she was younger, she’d been able to step into a crowd like this and conversations would stop and heads would turn. Men would be pulled to her the way a sun pulls planets into its orbit. But the older she got, the louder she had to laugh, the more attentive she had to be. Sometimes she felt relieved that she only had one charm left. There was a certain peace to knowing she was almost through. It made her picky, though, because she was, first and foremost, an avaricious woman, and her final husband would have to be rich enough to set her for life. And he needed to be old too, because then there would be a chance he would die before the charm wore off and she wouldn’t have to worry about grabbing all she could. But she’d married two elderly men already, and neither time had she been lucky enough for them to die, so she couldn’t count on it. It would also be nice if he didn’t have children. Offspring were so difficult. All her stepchildren hated her, the daughters especially. She’d never wanted kids of her own for exactly that reason. She’d had eight charms that could force men to be with her. But she had absolutely no idea how to make anyone else do it.

When she reached the lawn, she stopped and looked around, taking stock. Know your arena, she always thought. There was a large vinyl sign hanging on two aluminum poles that read FAREWELL, EBY! THE TOWN OF SULEY THANKS YOU!