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sought shelter in their tents, and the beach lay deserted in the pounding rain. I blinked through the water, looking for a private spot to sit. Just on the strand, I saw an overturned canoe, abandoned to rot in the tropical brush on account of a gaping hole in its bottom. I made my way through the wet sand and, making sure I was alone in the immediate vicinity, sat carefully on the canoe behind several palmettos and sandfly bushes. I was soaked, but not brave enough to disrobe.
    I had so much to think about. I didn’t know where to begin. For starters, I missed Sophie something fierce. What had happened to me? What? I ran through the memories sequentially. I felt myself start to lose my grip on sanity and forced myself to focus. Shutting my eyes, I took several deep breaths. I was good at focusing on the task at hand – it was how I’d climbed the corporate ladder. Single-minded focus. I had to use it now like I never had before.
    For some reason, I thought of The Truman Show , with Jim Carrey’s character living a fake life in front of the cameras but not knowing it. Maybe if I kept walking I would reach the end of the movie set, the end of the glass dome. Instinctively, I looked up into the palmettos for hidden cameras. I groaned, raking my fingers through my wet, tangled hair. Focus! Focus, Sabrina. I had to pretend, at least for the time being, that I was in the early eighteenth century. How was I going to cope? I thought about all the things I needed but didn’t have: personal hygiene items, my Blackberry, cotton underwear, multivitamins, Lexapro… I hung my head, the tears stinging my eyes.
    Focus, Sabrina. You can do this. Chances are, you’ll be so busy trying to get out of here alive that you won’t have time to be depressed.
    On the bright side, my vision was 20/15. I’d had LASIK a year ago, thank God. I couldn’t imagine being in 1718 (or a place that, for all practical purposes, was like 1718) and being in need of contacts or glasses. I’d already be dead, I’d guess. Completely crazy, for sure. Another plus: I was up to date on all my vaccinations. Of course, I was still susceptible to smallpox and all that… OK, I wasn’t going to let my thoughts go in that direction, it would do no good.
    The rain had slowed to a fine drizzle. I shivered, wondering how things were going at the firm without me. Had the merger gone through? I imagined my secretary Linda frantically fielding calls from our clients, desperately trying to find me. I felt a knot of anxiety in my gut at the thought. “The law firm will survive without you for a week, Sabrina,” Sky had told me with a roll of her eyes. Yes, it would survive without me, but would I survive without it? And what about Sophie? Could I survive without her? At least I didn’t have to worry about her welfare – Jake always did everything for her anyway. I was never around, I was always working. In spite of myself, I began to sob. I would focus in a second. But first I had to cry my head off. I wailed aloud, letting the tears stream with abandon down my face, letting the sobs shake my whole body. It felt good.
    “Well, now, ’allo, poppet!” A male voice, too close for comfort, made me jump up and spin around.
    Two men, their arms crossed, stood looking at me from the thicket. Although they were several feet away, I could smell them, and my weak stomach flipped threateningly. They looked to be in their twenties, maybe even in their late teens, thin and wiry, wearing dirty linen shirts and petticoat breeches. One wore a knitted cap while the other had a dirty calico scarf wrapped about his head. They both had knives tucked securely in their bright red sashes, new and clean against the rest of their clothes. The look in their eyes was… predatory.
    I backed away instinctively, looking over my shoulder for help. One of the men wiped his mouth on his sleeve and mumbled, “Christ, but she’s a pretty thing! What a bit o’ luck, eh, Dick?”
    The other