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lying curled in a circle at the side of the tray. She glanced at the woman who had set it there, a redhead who looked to be in her early thirties. She was with a man, probably her husband, and she smiled when Anna picked up the scarf.
    â€œWe’ve never met—right?” Anna murmured.
    â€œRight.”
    â€œAnd you haven’t filled out any personal questionnaires since you came to the island.”
    â€œThat’s right,” the woman confirmed.
    Anna closed her eyes, focusing on what the silky fabric had to tell her, then grinned.
    â€œYou two are in Grand Fernandino on your honeymoon, aren’t you?” she asked.
    The woman blinked, glancing down at the impressive diamond ring on her left hand, then back at Anna. “Yes.”
    Enjoying herself now, Anna ran her thumb over a bright green leaf in the silk pattern. “You were married in Boston. Well, in the suburbs—at Don’s country club.” She gave the woman a warm look. “This is your second marriage, and your little girl, Grace, was your maid of honor.”
    The woman looked astonished. “How…how do you know all that?”
    â€œI can pick up impressions from the objects you leave on the tray.” She continued to finger the silk as she spoke. “Like…I know Don proposed to you on the golf course. At the eighteenth hole. When he picked up his ball, he slipped something into the cup—that beautiful engagement ring you’re wearing. Very romantic, Don.”
    The audience was staring at her with respect, now that she’d proved her worth.
    She returned the scarf. “Thank you, Melinda, for sharing such nice memories,” she said.
    Etienne began to clap, and the audience joined in. She flicked her gaze to the man in the corner and saw he was still holding on to his beer bottle and staring at her.
    She picked up a man’s watch—an expensive model, with real gold links in the band, she was sure. Immediately she got a picture of a small boy, huddling in the dark, in a shed. Outside, the wind howled, and the boy curled up in the corner, wrapped in several empty feed sacks to keep warm.
    She wished she hadn’t been attracted to the watch. She wanted to slam it back onto the tray. Instead, she squeezed her fingers around the metal, striving for closer contact.
    â€œYou’re sorry you broke the pitcher, Teddy,” she whispered.
    In the audience, a large man with a high-domed forehead sat up straighter, then leaned toward her.
    She hadn’t known who put down the watch. As she turned toward him, the room fading around her. In a quiet voice, she spoke only to him. “You didn’t mean to break the pitcher,” she said again, her voice low and far away. “And you know your momma is going to be sad. She doesn’t have the money to replace it. But she’s worried about you now. You have to go back in the house. Because she doesn’t know you’re in the shed. And a storm is coming. You don’t want her going out in the storm.”
    â€œYou can’t know anything about that! How do you know my mom used to call me Teddy?”
    Ignoring the outburst, she continued. “It was a long time ago. The next week, you went out and got a job after school.” She paused for a minute. “Sweeping up the store for old Mr. Winslow. He gave you an employee discount—and you bought your momma another pitcher.”
    â€œYes.”
    Tears gathered in her eyes. “And now she lives in a nice apartment that you bought her. And she has the best of everything.”
    â€œI never knew why I went back in the house,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Were you really there?”
    â€œI…don’t know,” she answered honestly. She thought she was simply viewing the past. But she’d talked to him as she saw him hiding in that shed. Had he actually heard her? Sometimes when she was in the midst of a session, it seemed that way. But