Now, her brain feeling mushy after all the brainstorming she and June had done, Annika strolled into studio A, the one with floor-to-ceiling windows that faced a tiny patch of grass in the back. The knot in her stomach loosened immediately, and her shoulders relaxed.

“Hey, Seetha,” she called. Her Indian yoga instructor turned from fiddling with the stereo system and beamed at her.

“Annika! I was just thinking about you.” Seetha, the most graceful human being Annika had ever encountered, shimmied over to her. Her gray-speckled black braid hung over one shoulder and she wore a simple diamond nose ring that winked in the light. “Ooh, is that a new outfit?”

Annika checked herself out in the mirror. She’d swapped her office-trendy burgundy peplum top and black skirt for a purple sports bra and turquoise leggings that had silver peacock feathers printed all over. Not bad, she thought. Her high ponytail was bouncy, her arms and abs were toned from diligent practice, and her skin was clear in spite of all the chocolate she’d been stress-eating lately.

“Yeah, it is.” Annika smiled. “I treated myself last week. Just a pick-me-up, you know. To jostle myself out of the rut.” The rut of growing an ulcer over financial issues, she thought but didn’t say.

“Well, I have just the thing to jostle you out of the yoga rut,” Seetha said. “Get this, I have a new regimen for the end of class today: partner poses.”

“Partner poses,” Annika repeated. “Is that what it sounds like? You use a partner to do a yoga pose?”

“Precisely!” Seetha rubbed her hands together like some cartoon villainess. Annika smiled. Seetha was as evangelistic about yoga as some people were about their religion. “Elevate your practice to the next level. Get that stress elemental under control. What do you think?”

“I love it.” Annika rolled out her yoga mat, eager to begin.

The class began to fill, and, after waving to a few of the regulars, Annika sat in the middle of her mat and crossed her legs, placing each foot on the opposite thigh. She closed her eyes, placed her hands faceup on her knees, and began to practice her deep breathing.

The imagery she used was always the same—pure, blue water, rippling in a burbling brook. Breathe in, breathe out. Listen to the brook. Annika found she could drown out practically every sound in the world with this meditation.

“Hey, Annika.”

Okay, she couldn’t drown out that sound. Annika’s eyes flew open and she found herself staring at those singularly startling green irises. “Hudson Craft?”