She looked toward Alexandra’s stern and saw that the Sikorsky was darkened and motionless. They were going ashore by launch tonight, departure scheduled for 7:45, arrangements having been made by Hassan, ever-efficient chief of Zizi’s travel department. And please don’t be late, Miss Sarah, Hassan had told her. Zizi had advised her to wear something special. Le Tetou is my favorite restaurant on the island, he had said. It promises to be a memorable evening.

The breeze rose and from somewhere in the harbor came the clanging of a buoy. She gave another glance at her watch and saw it was 7:25. She allowed herself to picture a reunion. Perhaps they would have a family meal, like the meals they had shared together in the manor house in Surrey that did not exist. Or perhaps the circumstances would be such that food was not appropriate. Whatever the mood, she craved their embrace. She loved them. She loved all of them. She loved them because everyone else hated them. She loved them because they were an island of sanity surrounded by a sea of zealots and because she feared that the tide of history might one day sweep them away and she wanted to be a part of them, if only for a moment. She loved their hidden pain and their capacity for joy, their lust for life and their contempt for those who murdered innocents. To each of their lives was attached a purpose, and to Sarah each seemed a small miracle. She thought of Dina—scarred, beautiful Dina, the last of six children, one child for each million murdered. Her father, she had told Sarah, had been the only member of his family to survive the Holocaust. After coming to Israel he had chosen the name Sarid, which in Hebrew means remnant, and he had named his last child Dina, which means avenged. I’m Dina Sarid, she had said. I’m the avenged remnant.

And tonight, thought Sarah, we stand together.

Seven-thirty and still she did not move from her chair on the deck. Her procrastination had purpose. She wanted to give herself only a few minutes to dress—less time to send an inadvertent signal that she had no intention of coming back. Bring nothing with you, Rimona’s message had said. Leave your room in a mess.