Lily started to tremble, feeling wrenched inside, just like when she had lived with him, feeling twisted like a skein of yarn.

“There's no one to hear you. Don't worry—I checked before I let you see me. My daughter is out in the boat with your freak, and Maeve is napping on her bed. I looked in the window. Having her bedroom on the first floor really comes in handy.”

“You leave her alone,” Lily said, her voice rising.

“I don't waste my time with people like Maeve,” he said. “She means nothing to me. Did she stand up for me after you walked out? No. She knew you were alive, and she let me suffer through all those police visits.” He reached into his back pocket, took out a rolled-up piece of paper.

“See,” he said, tapping the paper on the palm of one hand, “you really don't know. You don't know whether you were imagining what happened on the mountain. You've always had such a good imagination, Mara. You're so creative. Seeing things that aren't there, thinking I mean one thing when I'm saying another. You doubt yourself, don't you? Even now, you're asking yourself, ‘Was I right? Or was I wrong?' Right?” He smiled, as if he'd just told a great joke.

Lily's heart was pounding. “I don't doubt myself, Edward, not now. And neither does your other wife. We both know what you did, who you are.”

“What?” he asked.

“Patty,” she said. “Grace's mother.”

He looked shocked. “Where are they?”

“We all run away from you, Edward,” she said. “She's a wonderful woman. I'm just sorry she had to go through what I did. You'll be happy to know that she's thriving—just as I did.”

Lily had gone too far. She saw his expression change—from anger, to shock, and now white-hot fury. He smacked the rolled-up paper down on the arm of the bench. It flew into the low cedar growing just behind the bench as a windscreen.

“Read that, Mara,” he said. “Then let's see you thrive. I hope you enjoy every minute of it.”

Lily shook her head. She began to walk slowly toward the cottage.

“Pick it up!” he shouted. “Read it!”

She just ignored him. Her body was quaking from the inside out, but she made herself walk erect and steady, one foot in front of the other. She felt the glass doorknob, cool under her palm. Turned it, pushed the door open, quietly closed it behind her.

Edward stood in the yard, staring at the house. She saw him gazing straight through the kitchen window, shadowy in the fog. Lily's heart was in her throat. She backed away, so she was in the dark hallway, where he couldn't see her. He looked immobile, hands on his hips, as if he might stand there forever.