“Everything okay?” asked Jill as she was folding up the article and slipping it into her purse.

“Fine,” Robin said. “Be back later. I’ve got a publicist meeting.”

Robin headed past the rows of desks, some chipper new intern on one of the phones, talking loudly and excitedly about an exhibit of mosaics made entirely of cat food. Robin’s heart beat in time with her staccato delivery. She could feel the intern watching her as she passed, could feel everyone watching her, those looks on their faces, that wary concern, as though at any given minute, she might just detonate.

Robin kept her eyes aimed straight ahead of her, smiling stiffly as she passed the front desk and heading fast for the elevator. Once she was on the sidewalk, where it was crowded enough to make her feel anonymous and she could finally breathe again, Robin slipped Nicola Crane’s business card out of her wallet and tapped the number into her phone.

“Robin?”

“Nikki.”

“Hey, it’s great to hear from you!”

“Listen, can you get together?” Robin said. “I really need to talk.”

“DO YOU THINK she’ll like this?” Nicola said. She opened a red velvet box and showed Robin a necklace—an aquamarine heart on a delicate silver chain. The two of them were in a Starbucks on Madison Avenue, a few blocks away from where she’d been shopping when Robin had called her, asking if they could meet. It just so happens, I’m in your area, Nicola Crane had said. I’m just buying a little something for your mom, you know. To cheer her up.

The necklace glittered against a white satin pillow. Aquamarine was her mother’s favorite, her birthstone. She had an aquamarine pinkie ring, worn as long as Robin had known her. And the necklace itself . . . it reminded her of something she’d seen in Mom’s secret box—a plastic heart on a string, that same blue-green color. “She will love it.”

“Oh good,” she said. “Maybe the blue stone will take her mind off all the Blue Meanies.”

“Blue Meanies?”

“You know. The cops.” She shrieked with laughter. Several customers turned to stare. Robin was tempted to laugh along with her, but she couldn’t. Not after what she’d found.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I thought we were friends.”

Nicola frowned at her. “Of course we are.”

“Well, where I come from, friends don’t keep important information from each other.”