She pulled out a second album, this one full of pictures from signings and book events and articles about her and Daniel. Shots of the set the first day of their television show. The two of them had been perfect together. They belonged together. She studied each photo, dispassionately evaluating her looks. She was still a knockout. She’d easily find another husband. But this time she’d make sure it was one who didn’t want kids, or maybe one old enough to have grown children. That way she’d have a ready-made family. She thought about one of the actors on her detective show. He’d be perfect. Late fifties, sexy in a silver fox way, and always giving her the eye.

Daniel might be gone, but she still had her fans. They adored her. But would they still love her if she didn’t produce any more books? Fans could be fickle too. They’d forget about her eventually. Blaire wasn’t stupid. She had great ideas, but without Daniel, the series was done. Maybe she should get into acting. Then everyone would really love her. She’d be famous, not just at book events but everywhere she went. That was it. She’d put a plan in place tomorrow. She had plenty of connections now because of the series. She knew producers, actors, money folks. She just needed to do her research, figure out which prospect to go after, and chart her course. It could be fun. A new start for her.

She closed the album, went into the kitchen, and opened her laptop. She’d started over before, and she could do it again. Time to find a new life.

33

Kate held Lily’s letter in her hands and wept. She’d read it over and over.

My dearest Blaire,

Have you ever done something that changed everything forever? One impulsive act, the consequences of which are more far-reaching than you could have ever imagined? One bad decision that led to another and another. My darling, Blaire, I sit here, pen in hand, wondering how to begin. How to make you understand why I did what I did.

You know the world in which I was reared. A world of privilege, abundance, and responsibility. I’m not complaining. I was well loved, and my life was easy. I knew what was expected of me; my world was well defined and my future assured. But at times, the strictures of that world were utterly suffocating. I met Harrison at a party the summer after I graduated from Smith. He’d just started medical school at Stanford. It was a whirlwind romance, and he was everything I was looking for. We knew it would be difficult to sustain a relationship three thousand miles apart with three years until his graduation, but somehow we did. Over summers and breaks and letters every week, our romance blossomed. We got engaged the summer before his final year in California.