One day not long after Sinclair left, Mrs. Shaw announced she was having a tea at the house for her friends from the suffragette movement. When she asked me to join them, I was pleased—anything to break the monotony. Besides, I had taken a liking to them.

They arrived in the afternoon, bustling into the hall chirping like birds and removing their hats and capes. It was still only late summer, but the day was chilly just the same.

“My dear, would you mind helping Teresa with the hats and capes?”

I’d made a point of avoiding Teresa as much as I could, so I wasn’t too happy with Mrs. Shaw’s request. But I could hardly refuse her. I stayed in the hall and took the ladies’ capes, while Teresa took their hats. One lady gave me an old-fashioned shawl to hang up alongside the capes. It was a lovely mauve color, soft as a lamb’s coat, and edged with fringe. I held it in my hands for a moment and looked at the woman who had given it to me. She was about Mrs. Shaw’s age, but struck me as so delicate she might crumble at any minute.

“I know it’s not fashionable, but it’s lovely, isn’t it?” she said. “My daughter made it for me because I so admired one she made for herself.” Her pale eyes misted over. “She died not long after she finished it.”

I stared at her with my mouth open. My feet were suddenly rooted to the ground. Teresa was nudging me to get on with it, but I ignored her. My head throbbed and I was afraid I might faint. I shoved the shawl at Teresa. “I’m so sorry, I think I’m going to be sick. Tell Mrs. Shaw I’m sorry.”

Teresa rolled her eyes at me and started to say something, but I turned away from her and fled up the stairs.

In the safety of my room, I lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. As soon as I saw that shawl, I remembered. There was a young woman who had tried to help me in the lifeboat. . . . She’d been wearing a mauve shawl. I could see her clearly. Her hands gripped my arms and her voice was gentle as she tried to coax me down off the seat where I stood. I remembered her scream as I fell backward into the water. The images were sharp and clear in my mind. I wondered if she’d been this woman’s daughter, but surely she would have said if the girl had drowned. Besides, there must be a lot of women with mauve shawls. I shivered. It was eerie just the same.