Her group of friends who had been texting her for ten days despite her failure to reply? Maybe, but probably not. Her family might see the memoir as a new preoccupation when she was supposed to be focused on them. Colleen clicked on the lights one by one as she made her way to the dawn-lit kitchen. With a Nina Simone record chosen, she turned the volume to low and began to assemble breakfast fixings.

For that brief moment, all was well with the world. Warm sun filtering through the checkered curtains and falling in dusty cones of light onto the linoleum counters made the kitchen hauntingly beautiful. Colleen was smiling when Hallie entered in her long leftover-from-high-school T-shirt with Hello Kitty on it, fluffy slippers and a question that changed everything. “Where’s Dad?”

“In bed.” Colleen smiled at her sister, bleary-eyed and looking so young.

“No. His bedroom door is open and he isn’t there.”

A tidal wave crashed through the morning’s peace and brought with it the flotsam-memory of something in the middle of the night. Footsteps. The squeak of the screen door. Hallie and the stars.

“Did you go outside last night? You know, like we used to . . . to see the stars.” Colleen whispered the question, her pulse slamming against the bottom of her throat.

“No. What are you talking about?”

“Did you go out in the middle of the night to look at the stars?”

“No, Lena.” Hallie’s voice rose, and she burst into a run through the kitchen, out the door and into the backyard.

Colleen dropped the carton of eggs she held in her hand, perfectly oval blue eggs she’d bought from a roadside farmer just yesterday. They crashed to the floor, the shells shattering in a noise so soft it couldn’t be heard over Nina’s voice. The yokes broke, spreading yellow across the hardwood floor, but Colleen ignored the mess, running into the backyard, following her sister to the dock where they both saw what wasn’t there—Dad’s johnboat.

“God. No.” Hallie fell to her knees on the wood and picked up the dangling ropes. Then she spun to Colleen. “What time was it? What time did you hear someone get up?”

Colleen’s thoughts spun back through time. Before she awoke and checked her e-mail but after she heard Dad say good night to Hallie.

“When did you hear him?” Hallie stood and grabbed Colleen by the arms and shook her as if to wake her.

“I don’t know. I just don’t know. I was half-asleep. I thought it was you . . .”