Chapter 1
I put the watch back on the nightstand, took out my phone, and called the front desk.
"Could you send up a glass of water?"
Before hanging up, I asked as if it had just occurred to me, "Are there fireworks on the mountain tonight?"
The receptionist paused, then answered, "No, Mrs. Ward. Fire regulations are strict here. Guests aren't allowed to set off fireworks."
My grip tightened on the phone.
So the fireworks had been arranged especially for Rita Carter.
At dawn, I heard a key card beep outside our door.
Neil came in carrying the chill of the night with him.
He took off his coat, hung it up, and sat beside the bed, watching me for a long time.
"Awake?"
I kept my eyes closed. "Just woke up."
He bent to put my socks on, as carefully as ever.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Very well. Slept straight through till morning."
His hands stopped for a moment.
I opened my eyes and looked at his lowered face. Suddenly I remembered my first physical therapy session after the crash.
I was in so much pain I could barely stay seated. My nails dug deep into his arm.
He knelt beside the exercise mat and let me break the skin without making a sound.
He'd told me, "Alma, if it means you'll walk again, I'd give my life."
But last night, he'd watched fireworks with the woman who had shattered mine.
I wanted to ask where he'd been. I wanted to ask whether Rita was staying at this hotel too.
Instead, I heard myself say, "Neil, weren't you cold last night?"
He looked up at me.
I forced a smile. "It's windy up there."
Breakfast was on the hotel's ground floor.
Mom, Ruth Mercer, had already set my place. When she saw us, she smiled and waved us over.
"Neil, Rita said the mushroom soup here is delicious. I made sure to get you a bowl."
The table fell silent.
Dad, Martin Mercer, jumped in, "Your mother got mixed up. The doctor said the mushroom soup would be easy on your stomach."
My younger sister, Kelly, stared down at her coffee, stirring it. Her face had gone pale.
I picked up my spoon. My fingertips trembled.
"Rita is here too?"
Neil wiped the water from my cuff. His voice was gentle. "I heard she's doing physical therapy nearby. Don't read anything into it. We haven't seen her."
"I'm not reading anything into it."
I lowered my head and swallowed a spoonful of soup. It burned my throat, but my eyes stung more.
The hotel manager arrived with a bouquet of white roses.
"Mr. Ward ordered these in advance for your anniversary."
Mom smiled. "See how thoughtful Neil is? Try not to be so difficult with him."
I looked down at the flowers in my lap. The pollen was already making my nose itch.
I knew they were one of the bouquets prepared for Rita last night.
I pulled out the card. It read:
Welcome home.
There was no signature, only a drawing of a moon.
Neil reached for it. I closed the card before he could take it.
"This is for me?"
His expression froze. "The florist must have put in the wrong card."
He grabbed it, tore it into pieces, and dropped them in the trash.
"Finish breakfast. I'll take you to the glass walkway."
I stared at the trash can. Then my tears fell.
"Neil," I said softly, looking up. "If you realized one day you'd mistaken someone else for the person who mattered most, what would you do?"
He took my hand. His palm was still warm.
"That won't happen."
"You're so sure?"
"Once I've chosen someone, I won't mistake them for anyone else. Not in this lifetime."
I smiled faintly and slowly slipped my hand from his.
"Good."
