A summer night at Hubbard's Point—the closest thing to heaven most people would ever find on earth. Waves splashed the shore, crickets rasped in the thick, tangled honeysuckle vines, and the spice of roses, wild thyme, and sassafras wafted through the salt air. Stars blazed overhead, and fireflies flitted through the yards.

Lily sat on the back porch, huddled in a blanket and listening to the waves. Her nerves crackled, and every sound made her jump. Lights on the Point had gone off one by one. She'd heard a whippoorwill calling across the swamp, and another answering. Even nature seemed ominous, as if danger lurked in every shadow. She almost wished Edward would appear, because she couldn't stand the tension of waiting and wondering what his first move would be.

Now, staring across the water, she wondered whether Rose was asleep yet. They had spoken by phone a few hours earlier, and Rose told her Liam had read her a bedtime story, but she didn't want to go to bed.

Lily felt the same way. She saw a meteor shoot across the sky and held her breath. She wanted to reach for Rose—for Liam—but they weren't there. They were in Rhode Island, and Lily had been apart from them for three days now.

How could any of this have happened? Was everything in life like a meteor—blazing, sudden, out of her control? Or was there some pattern, some sense, to where she found herself tonight? It all seemed to hinge on Edward . . . and she found herself spinning back in time, to memories she had tried to put aside, to the day she met him, back when she was Mara.

What if she had been a starving artist, instead of a rising young designer? No one would suspect that there was a lot of money in designing canvases for upscale needlework shops, but there was. And Edward had seen his opportunity.

Two weeks before Christmas 1993, Mara Jameson flew out of Providence's T.F. Green Airport for Washington, D.C. Larkspur and Ivy, a shop in Georgetown and one of her best customers, had invited her down for a tea, to meet their clients and her fans. Because it was snowing, because it was almost Christmas, because she had been working late every night, and because her grandmother told her to treat herself, she had used her airline miles for a business-class seat and booked a room at the Hay-Adams.