Chapters (97)
- Cover
- Back Cover Text
- Praise
- Booklist
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Eighty-Eight
- Eighty-Nine
- Acknowledgments & A Personal Note
- Excerpt
For nearly an hour Emma listened to eulogies, praise, tributes and songs for Marisa. They were beautiful and heart-wrenching. But nothing in them shed light on Emma’s predicament. When it ended, she replaced her glasses and positioned herself outside near the door, studying faces as people exited and gathered into small groups.
Emma floated from group to group, eavesdropping.
“We were neighbors with Doreen and Wilfred, in Long Beach. Marisa was so sweet playing and watching out for our daughter,” an older woman told a group of older people.
Emma moved on to another group.
“…this old guy comes to the counter—he’d lost his keys in the store. So Marisa goes around, aisle to aisle, until she finds them by the fishing tackle. And the look on that guy’s face, like Marisa was an angel who’d saved his life.”
She drifted to a cluster of women, all about Marisa’s age.
“What I’d heard was she’d broken up with Preston just before the accident, told him to get out.”
“She should’ve done that long ago. He was a creep.”
“Maybe that’s why she crashed—she was upset about him.”
“It’s just so sad because she was doing well at college—on her way to becoming a cop.”
“I know, she told me she was working on some extracurricular project she was excited about.”
Emma’s ears pricked up, and without thinking, she said, “Oh? What kind of project?”
Heads turned to Emma.
“I’m sorry. I interrupted,” Emma said.
“No, that’s fine,” the woman said. “Marisa said she couldn’t talk about it. So I really don’t know.”
“Excuse me, I’m Lee, Marisa’s cousin,” another woman said to Emma. “I don’t believe we met.”
“Sorry, I’m Anne. I’m an old friend from Long Beach.”
“Oh.” Lee eyed Emma, nodding politely.
“It’s all so sad. Excuse me,” Emma turned to leave but after a few steps felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” It was the woman who’d mentioned Marisa’s extracurricular project.
“I’m sorry. It’s just so sad,” Emma said. “She was working so hard on her dream job, even taking on that project you’d mentioned. What was it exactly?”
“Oh.” The woman was startled. “I don’t know. She said she couldn’t talk about it but she was excited about it. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Emma nodded. “Yes, thanks.”
Emma accepted the woman’s hug and over her shoulder glimpsed Lee staring at her for a moment before Emma left the gathering in front of the chapel.
Was I Marisa’s secret project? It could have absolutely nothing to do with me. I have no way of knowing.