He just sat and stared at the wall across from the chair, noticing the cracks and markings (little bloody fingerprints on the railing upstairs?) of the wood. Soon, people would come to help them; soon, the police would clear the snow drifts to the front door. Somebody would come.

Now he just sat and stared at the wall, and at the two women, wondering how it had all happened. Nobody spoke for a long time, they just sat in silence.

After a while, he could make out the thin, whiny buzz of a snowmobile engine in the distance.

EPILOGUE

The baby was kicking today.

Helen Pierce could feel him deep in her belly, odd little points of pressure, tremors that felt like mild indigestion. But this feeling was a good one. It made her happy again. It had been a while since she had been happy, and she hardly remembered what it was like.

David was in Washington with Dan Flint, testifying in the indictment against Michael Olmstead. Even with his help, the lawyers cautioned them that it was possible Olmstead would face a light sentence, time served and probation. The only shot they had at something more was to try him on an attempted murder charge, and that meant proving that he had firsthand knowledge of the chemical’s effects and sent Jonathan Newman to the plant with intent to kill.

Any records that might have existed to prove that point had been destroyed. Flint said that even if they didn’t get a conviction, at least the bad publicity would keep him from finding another job for a while.

The whole thing made her sick, but she hardly dared think what it was doing to David. Flint too; she had talked to him quite a few times since last winter, and he just didn’t seem to be the type for all this bureaucratic bullshit. Helen gave him another six months, and then he would get out. She could feel it.

The baby kicked again. “Hold your horses,” she said, and limped to the fridge. Maybe he wanted something to eat. She made herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and sat down at the kitchen table to eat it. Holding the sandwich was still a little awkward. She had gotten some frostbite on her toes and two of the fingers of her left hand, and had lost three of the toes and one finger to the first knuckle. It made it hard for her to hold things in that hand. Still, she realized, that was just a small reminder of what she had been through the day of the storm.