She remembered this drive. Two weeks before the wedding they’d been on their way to Charlottesville. She’d stared at his profile as he drove, but in this exact moment, they hadn’t said this to each other. He lifted his sunglasses and pulled the Jeep over, then leaned in and kissed her. These images were beautifully assembled, like lines of poetry. To touch Todd’s face again—knowing in her heart that he was lost to her—had such a purity and beauty that it took her breath away. This had been her wish: to see him again knowing the significance of the moment and the loss that was to follow. She held his face in her hands, studying every line and stray hair.

The carousel began to slow. She could see flickers of light showing through him. Todd was fading.

“I love you.” She choked the words out quickly, her hands still holding on to his face, a little hard so his face shook as she spoke.

“I love you, too.” He dissolved in front of her, his voice echoing.

Lara began to sob, hugging the horse’s neck tightly. It, too, had changed, returning to a smooth polished wood. Its tail gave one final flick that brushed against her thigh.

When it stopped, it wasn’t the pair of clowns waiting for her anymore. She recognized the familiar blue-and-green uniform of Shane Speer, the fortune-teller from the Rivoli Circus.

Had she been transported back to Kerrigan Falls? At this point, anything was possible. She climbed down off the horse, dizzy and slightly sick. Her head and stomach were not in unison. She’d never been one for rides.

“Hello, Miss Barnes.” In this wild French circus, his American Southern accent was terribly out of place.

Oh Jesus. This was like those dreams where strange things in her life merged—her kindergarten teacher replacing her father onstage at a Dangerous Tendencies gig and not knowing the words to the set list they were about to play.

“I know.” Shane was leaning against the control booth, smoking a cigarette. He took a final drag before extinguishing it on the ground with a black Puma sneaker. “You’re thinking, What is he doing here?”

“You?” She was wobbly and pointed to him as she stepped onto the ground. Well, her hand was trying to point at him, but she stumbled.

“I really work here,” he said, catching her, “but I had to make sure you had the desire to join us inside our little circus, so I was forced to come to you.”

“All that stuff you said to me. Was it bullshit, then?”

“Hardly.” He stood her up and then walked backward down the Grand Promenade, nodding toward the merry-go-round. “What do you think of her?”