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guarantee you that you are going to find some answers there.”
    “What if I don’t want answers?” asked Eloise. “What if I just want all this to go away?”
    She had started to cry then. Not just a little. It was a humiliating volcanic outburst of sobbing. Agatha moved over and wrapped her soft but strong arms around Eloise’s thin shoulders and pulled her in. This was before anything had happened with Ray and no one had held Eloise like that since Alfie passed. Eloise didn’t usually enjoy physical contact with anyone but her children and her husband. But she found herself resting her head on Agatha and letting it all go. A deep warmth had washed through her that day, and after that, Agatha became Eloise’s mentor and close friend. It was an unbalanced relationship, with Agatha doing all the giving and Eloise all the taking. One day, Eloise was going to make it up. One day, she was going to be there for Agatha in a way that no one else could—she didn’t know how or when, but she was certain of it.
    “It doesn’t go away,” Agatha had said that day. “Not in my experience. You are going to have to embrace it and do your duty to it. Don’t worry, dear, I am going to show you how.”
    “How did you find me?” Eloise had asked.
    “Your Alfie asked me to help,” Agatha said softly. “He loves you so very, very much.”
    Eloise wept for she didn’t know how long. And when she was done, Agatha told her to be strong and to start listening. And Eloise did listen to Agatha. She was smart enough to know when she needed help, and she was not always too stubborn to take it.
    That visit seemed a long time ago now. Eloise drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
    • • •
    The Burning Girl didn’t come back. Eloise hoped that perhaps she had accomplished what was needed by visiting Miriam, even though she had a nagging feeling that she hadn’t. She waited a day, two days, three. But no Burning Girl. Eloise should have been happy, but she wasn’t. She thought about reaching out to Miriam again, but she didn’t. Nick had tossed her from the house. And the Burning Girl was gone. Wasn’t it W. C. Fields who said, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Then quit. There’s no point in being a damn fool about it.”
    • • •
    Meanwhile, Ray was hassling her about Tim Schaffer’s wife. Talk about someone who didn’t know when to quit. Eloise had been wearing the missing woman’s scarf around—at Ray’s behest—even though this didn’t always work (and he knew it).
    It was a pretty scarf, anyway—white with china-blue blossoms, a kind of gauzy material. It was a gift from Schaffer to his wife, and he claimed that she’d worn it all the time.
    It was only after having it on for a couple of days that Eloise was aware of the slight, almost imperceptible feeling of not being able to get enough air. Once she took it off and put it in a drawer in her dresser, she felt a tremendous sense of relief. She filled her lungs gratefully.
    He was smothering her, Eloise thought. She couldn’t breathe.
    Not that he had actually smothered her. He was caring and he loved her, but he never let her be. She started hearing the same sentence over and over. “I’m just trying to help you, sweetie.”
    Stephanie Schaffer had been pregnant, Eloise knew with a sudden clarity. Eloise called Ray and told him.
    “That tracks,” Ray said. “She visited her doctor a few weeks before she went missing.”
    “What for?” asked Eloise.
    “A routine well visit,” said Ray. “But the doctor won’t release her file. Stephanie Schaffer specifically indicated that she wanted her records kept private, even from her husband. Since there’s no active investigation or even the smallest evidence of foul play, there’s no way for the cops to even get a warrant.”
    “Hmm,” said Eloise.
    “What?”
    “I can’t imagine requesting that my medical information be kept from Alfie,” said Eloise. “When you’re really