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It was before that, but she couldn’t recall when she had met this man.
    “Mom left Mandy’s room long enough to come say hello to you.” He turned his head and signaled someone to move closer. “You have to stand here, Mom, or she can’t see you.”
    An exceptionally pretty, middle-aged face materialized in Avery’s patch of vision. The woman’s soft, dark hair had a very flattering silver streak that waved up and away from her smooth, unlined forehead.
    “Hello, Carole. We’re all very relieved that you’re doing so well. Tate said the doctors are pleased with your progress.”
    Tate Rutledge! Of course.
    “Tell her about Mandy, Mom.”
    Dutifully, the stranger reported on another stranger. “Mandy ate most of her breakfast this morning. They sedated her last night so she would sleep better. The cast on her arm bothers her, but that’s to be expected, I suppose. She’s the sweetheart of the pediatric wing, and has the entire staff wrapped around her little finger.” Tears formed in her eyes and she blotted at them with a tissue. “When I think of what…”
    Tate Rutledge placed his arm across his mother’s shoulders. “But it didn’t happen. Thank God it didn’t.”
    Avery realized then that it must have been Mandy Rutledge she had carried from the plane. She remembered hearing the child’s screams and frantically trying to unfasten her jammed seat belt. When it came free, she had gathered the terrified child against her and, with the assistance of another passenger, had plunged through the dense, acrid smoke toward an emergency exit.
    Because she had had the child, they had assumed she was Mrs. Carole Rutledge. But that wasn’t all—they had been in each other’s seats.
    Her mind clumsily pieced together a puzzle of which only she was aware. She recalled that her boarding pass had designated the window seat, but when she had arrived, a woman was already sitting there. She hadn’t pointed out the error, but had taken the seat on the aisle instead. The child had been sitting in the seat between them.
    The woman had worn her dark hair shoulder length, much like Avery wore hers. She also had dark eyes. They bore a resemblance to each other. In fact, the flight attendant, who had made a fuss over the little girl, had asked who was the mother and who was the aunt, implying that Avery and Carole Rutledge were sisters.
    Her face had been smashed beyond recognition. Mrs. Rutledge had probably been burned beyond recognition. They had misidentified her on the basis of the child and a seating rearrangement that no one knew about. My God, she had to tell them!
    “You’d better go back now before Mandy becomes anxious, Mom,” Tate was saying. “Tell her I’ll be there shortly.”
    “Good-bye for now, Carole,” the woman said to her. “I’m sure when Dr. Sawyer’s done, you’ll be as pretty as ever.”
    Her eyes don’t smile either,
Avery thought as the woman moved away.
    “Before I forget it,” Tate said, stepping close to the bed so that she could see him again, “Eddy, Dad, and Jack send their regards. I think Dad’s coming to the meeting with the plastic surgeon this afternoon, so you’ll see him then.
    “Jack went home this morning.” Tate continued talking, not knowing he wasn’t speaking to his wife. “I’m sure he’s worried about Dorothy Rae. God only knows what Fancy is up to without any supervision, although Eddy has got her working as a volunteer at the headquarters. None of them will be allowed to see you until you’re moved to a private room, but I don’t think you’ll miss them, will you?”
    He assumed that she knew who and what he was talking about. How could she convey that she hadn’t the foggiest idea? These people were unknown to her. Their comings and goings were no concern of hers. She must contact Irish. She must let this man know that he was a widower.
    “Listen, Carole, about the campaign.” By the motion his shoulders made, she thought he had probably slid