As if returning from some fugue state or mesmerizing memory, she looked at him and blinked, blinked. “Davey. I . . . I love this dress. I’ll be just sick if it’s not all right when it dries.”

She hadn’t been merely distressed about the dress. She’d been racked by strong emotion.

As the flush of anger faded from her face, she turned to him and embraced him and held him tightly as she pressed her face to his chest.

Even in these unsettling circumstances, putting his arms around her was as natural as breathing. “What is all this? What’s wrong?”

“All the bad that’s ever happened,” she said, “was made right with you last night.”

“It’s not just a game you’ve been playing. I’ve known it’s not. You’re in some kind of trouble, and I need to know what it is.”

She looked at him. Her stare was direct, her eyes as deep as oceans. “It’s not as bad as you might think. Anyway, I’ll tell you everything in time. I promise. I swear. Every last little thing.”

“Sit down with me here, now. Tell me now.”

“Be patient, Davey. Give me breathing room. So very much is happening so very fast. I’m overwhelmed. Give me a few days, and I’ll explain everything.” She snatched the yellow dress from the counter, where it trailed into the sink. “I’ve got to hang this in the bathroom while I shower, keep it from wrinkling, let the spot remover evaporate. It’s all I’ve got to wear.” She plucked her undergarments from the counter and dropped them into the tote bag, which already contained a pair of white sling-back heels and other items he could not identify. “We belong together, and we will be together, and there won’t be any secrets between us.”

She looked exactly like Emily, sounded like her, had her vivid personality, possessed that powerful presence he had never known anyone else to have. And though there had been nothing mysterious about Emily, who was always open and direct, Maddison’s secrets only confirmed for him that, if she were not Emily herself, she offered him a way back to Emily. He didn’t even know what he meant by that, but he felt it profoundly, knew it intuitively. Therefore, arguing with her would be like arguing with Emily, which he had never done, which he could not do, not while still living in the long shadow of the guilt he’d earned by failing her ten years earlier.

“Be patient,” she repeated. “I’ve so much to do today, so much to be finished with. But there are beautiful days ahead of us.”

As she picked up the tote and the dress and headed toward the hallway, David said, “Was that blood?”

She halted and glanced back at him. “What—the dress?” A light, seemingly genuine laugh escaped her. “No, no, no. Wine. Just wine.”

“You always carry a bottle of spot remover?”

“A lot of the time, yeah. I can be such a klutz.”