True, Maddison’s visit had enchanted Calista, lifted her heart. But it could as easily have frightened her or disturbed her so that she would have been robbed of the peace that she’d found during the past decade.

And what was he to make of some of the last words Maddison had spoken to Calista?

I’ve come back just for this one visit . . .

Only that morning, before Maddison left the house, before David had gone off to the cemetery and then to points north, she promised him a future together.

We belong together, and we will be together, and there won’t be any secrets between us . . . there are beautiful days ahead of us.

Was that promise a lie? How could she tell Calista that she had come for one visit—and subsequently become a part of David’s life, therefore a fixture in Calista’s as well?

How could she make a pretense of being Emily’s spirit—but then later reappear as flesh-and-blood Maddison?

I’ve come back just for this one visit, so you will know that I’m happy and beyond all pain . . .

Maybe Maddison acted out of compassion, but if that were the case, her actions were misguided. Unless . . . Unless . . .

The mystery of this woman didn’t fade with every new thing he learned about her, but instead grew more impenetrable.

He wasn’t angry with Maddison. Long ago, by his own descent into deceit, he had forfeited the right to be angered by the deceit of others. He did not have it in him to confront her in righteous indignation, any more than one thief deserved the right to lecture another thief about his larceny.

As he’d stood at the railing, the sun became a wound as it met the sharp horizon line of the sea, and an artery opened in the sky, spilling scarlet light across the west.

When he returned home, if he pressed Maddison to explain why she had visited Calista, he would surely open the door to questions about what he had been doing during the day, prior to responding to Calista’s phone call.

If she discovered that he had been probing into her background, both on his own hook and with the help of Isaac Eisenstein and Lew Ross, her reaction might be one that he couldn’t manage and would regret. She had asked for his patience and had promised an end to all secrets soon. By his actions and his words, by his acceptance of the gift of her passion, he’d appeared to accept that bargain, even as he continued to investigate her.

He believed in her goodness, the goodness of Emily inexplicably reborn. He despaired at the thought that she might leave him, as if to lose her, as he’d lost Emily, would establish a cycle of losses that would repeat through all his life.