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deck.
    She paused at a display of newspaper clippings from the time of the wreck, finding coverage from The Boston Globe and The New York Times as well as the articles from The Vineyard Gazette. Hannah felt slightly lightheaded when she came upon the article that had been left on her bed back at the Hammett House. She didn’t need to read that one to know what it said.
    Moving on from the newspapers, Hannah was surprised to find photos and daguerreotypes from the days immediately following the wreck. While she knew from the famous Matthew Brady collection that photography had been available as early as the Civil War, she hadn’t thought about it being used on an island as remote as the Vineyard had been in those days.
    She was fascinated by photos of the Wampanoag tribe members who had manned the rescue boats after being informed of the wreck by the lighthouse keeper. They stared at the camera while holding the large oars of the boats in their weather-worn hands. Hannah couldn’t imagine rowing a boat through the huge waves that regularly pounded the shore of Aquinnah, and wondered how the rescuers had managed to survive themselves.
    Hannah’s heart began to pound a rhythmic drumbeat in her chest as she came upon another photo, this time of two middle-aged men and a young woman standing in front of one of the boats. Feeling dizzy, she grabbed the railing of the exhibit case to steady herself.
    “ That’s her,” she said.
    “ Excuse me?”
    Hannah jumped, startled to find she had spoken aloud. She looked at the woman next to her and pointed at the photo. “I’m sorry. I just recognized the woman in this photo.”
    The woman nodded and moved away. Hannah knew the woman thought she was nuts; something she was starting to get used to at this point. And something that probably wasn’t that far off the mark.
    But when she returned her gaze to the photo, she knew that it was the truth and not some crazy delusion. The woman in the photo was the same woman Hannah had seen on the webcam. She even wore the same long white dress and dark cloak.
    Hannah looked at the card next to the photo and read the description. According to the card, the people in the photo were the lighthouse keeper who had coordinated rescue efforts and the town doctor and his wife.
    Hannah cleared her throat and headed to the front desk of the museum, where an elderly woman dressed in a rose-colored blazer and a gray skirt greeted her.
    “ Can I help you with something?”
    “ Do you work here?” Hannah asked.
    “ I’m a volunteer docent.”
    “ Can you tell me who the people are in one of the photos in the shipwreck exhibit? It says on the card they were the town doctor and his wife.”
    The woman followed Hannah over to the exhibit and looked at the photo Hannah pointed out.
    “ Yes, of course” the woman said. “That’s Josiah Winslow; he was the doctor in Chilmark at the time and came to help with the rescue efforts.”
    “ And the woman?”
    “ His wife. I believe her name was Stella.”
    Hannah stared at the photo and thought of the woman wandering around the cliffs alone at night. Stella Winslow.
    She turned abruptly to the docent. “Can you tell me anything else about her?”
    The woman looked puzzled. “No, I’m sorry I can’t. What else is it that you want to know?”
    Hannah shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said, knowing full well she sounded like a lunatic. “Do you have newspaper archives here? Or would I need to go to the library for that? I need to find out more about this wreck and these rescuers.”
    “ I think you’d do best going to the library. They have all the old papers on microfiche.”
    Hannah nodded. “Thank you.”
    She got back into her car and considered heading to the Edgartown Library, but changed her mind as she turned the image of Stella Winslow over in her mind. The Winslows were from Chilmark, and the wreck had taken place off the coast of Aquinnah. She had already been in the right place