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question is, what do I do about it?”

 C H A P T E R 
10
    After exercise class, Meg walked back across campus, stopping at the theater to check the apprentices’ bulletin board. Among the listings for guest speakers, daily schedules, and cabaret rehearsals, there was an announcement of a memorial service on Saturday afternoon for the two apprentices killed in the car accident. Anyone who wanted to speak at the service or help plan it was welcome.
    Meg added her name to the sign-up sheet. As she walked back to her dorm, she thought about what she wanted to do for the memorial. Meg knew she had been Amy’s closest friend at Warrenstown. They had liked each other right away, and in the six weeks they’d known each other, they’d found that they had much in common. Meg wanted to do something special for Amy. As for Tommy, Meg didn’t know him that well, but Amy’s happiness about her new boyfriend had been obvious.
    Back in her room, Meg went straight to her desk and turned on her laptop. She reopened the first of the pictures Amy had sent her Sunday morning. Someone had taken a picture of Amy and Tommy standing in front of the Mt. Greylock visitors’ center. The two of them were smiling, their arms aroundeach other, oblivious to the fact that it was the last day of their lives.
    Meg clicked to the next picture, sent just ten minutes after the first. It showed Tommy, baring his teeth in a mock snarl, standing beside a glass case. Meg zoomed in on the case and could see that Tommy was mimicking the expression on the stuffed bobcat on display. She recognized it from the time she had visited the center a few weeks ago. It had been fascinating to learn about the various indigenous creatures that inhabited the area.
    It was over an hour before Amy had sent the next two pictures. This time, Tommy had taken them of her. In the first, Amy was sitting on top of a rock wall that surrounded a pond. In the second, she was smiling at a butterfly that had alighted on her arm. Fifteen minutes later, Amy had e-mailed a picture of a deer.
    One by one, Meg looked at the other pictures, documenting the hike up the mountain, along a portion of the Appalachian Trail. The last of the series were shots from the top of Mt. Greylock. The pair had gotten another visitor to take a picture of them together in front of the Veterans War Memorial Tower, which stood at the peak. Next, there were several shots of the views from the mountaintop. Meg knew, from being up there herself, that the photos didn’t do the spectacular vistas justice.
    As she opened the rest of the pictures, Meg was glad, at least, that the final day of Amy’s life had been spent with so much happiness amid such beauty. But she didn’t understand why Amy had sent her the last blurry, blue image.

 C H A P T E R 
11
    Not bad for a woman in her mid-forties, thought Victoria Sterling as she studied her reflection in the mirror over the tiger-maple dresser. Somehow, even her almost two-pack-a-day habit hadn’t altered her appearance much as far as Victoria could see. She looked nothing like that defeated, wrinkled woman with the sunken, dark-circled eyes that the smoking police used in their ad campaign.
    After running a comb through her dark, curly hair and pulling on a blue silk robe, Victoria grabbed a pack of cigarettes from her purse and walked out of the bedroom. She tiptoed past the closed door of Belinda’s room, glad that her hostess wasn’t up yet. Victoria wanted some time to herself.
    The timer Belinda had set the night before ensured there was a pot of fresh coffee waiting for Victoria downstairs. She filled a mug and looked around the newly remodeled kitchen. It must have cost a small fortune. The custom cabinets, the granite countertops, the top-of-the-line professional appliances, even the antique farm table that served as an island in the center of the spacious room, all contributed to a feeling of security and well-being.
    Taking a sip of the