“I need you to sit down,” Rachel said.

“I am sitting down,” Madeline said. “I’m working, Rachel.”

“You aren’t going to believe this,” Rachel said.

Madeline sighed. Gossip, gossip, gossip. If she were smart, she would hang up now. But she wasn’t strong enough.

“What?” she said.

“Grace Pancik was having an affair with Benton Coe,” Rachel said. “Just as we suspected.”

“I don’t think we suspected that,” Madeline said uneasily. “And I’m not sure what would make you think that was true.”

“Oh, come on!” Rachel said. “When we all saw the article, we knew.”

“The article doesn’t prove anything,” Madeline said.

“Okay, let’s say, strictly speaking, the article doesn’t prove anything. But…!”

“But what?” Madeline asked. She wanted to slam the phone down and never talk to Rachel again, but she had to know what Rachel was going to say. Who had found out about Grace and Benton for sure?

“Bernie Wu was the driver for the writer and the photographer of the article, and he said they arrived early, and it was pretty clear they’d interrupted something. Grace and Benton were locked in the garden shed, and they emerged looking very disheveled indeed.”

Oh no, Madeline thought.

“You’re gossiping, Rachel,” Madeline said. “It’s hearsay, and you should be ashamed of yourself for repeating it. It is none of your business.”

“It sounds like you’re taking the moral high ground,” Rachel said. “Which is ironic, since we all know you’re the one writing a book about it.”

“I’m not writing a book about it,” Madeline said. “I threw that book away.”

Rachel gasped. “No!” she said. “Oh, Madeline.” She sounded genuinely upset, like Madeline had told her she’d put her dog to sleep. “It was so good. I was dying to read it. In fact, I already posted about it in my Goodreads profile.”

“I threw it away, deleted the file,” Madeline said. “It was garbage.”

There was a heavy silence on the other line, which was then replaced by Rachel’s usual sparkly energy. “Well, the thing about Grace and Benton isn’t the most scandalous thing I have to tell you, anyway. Because, did you hear what happened to Eddie Pancik?”

“No,” Madeline said, exasperated. “I did not hear what happened to Eddie Pancik, and I don’t want to hear.” Unless he won the lottery, Madeline thought. Or found a pot of gold sitting on the bottom of Miacomet Pond.

“Eddie Pancik got arrested by the FBI last night,” Rachel said. “He’s been running a prostitution ring on Low Beach Road.”

Madeline closed her eyes. She had several thoughts at once.

Poor Grace.

Eddie was far more desperate than I thought.

Poor Grace.

Madeline didn’t trust any information coming from Rachel McMann. “That’s absurd,” she said.

“It’s true,” Rachel said. “I can’t tell you how I know, but I know. Eddie Pancik has spent his summer pimping out a crew of five Russian housecleaners to his clients. His secretary overheard a conversation or two, I guess, between Eddie and his sister, and she put two and two together. She contacted the FBI.”

“His secretary? You mean Eloise?”

“Yes, Eloise,” Rachel said.

The thought of sweet seventy-year-old Eloise busting open a prostitution ring run by Eddie and Barbie was comical. And yet, Madeline could sort of see how it might be possible.

“Was Grace in on it?” she asked.

Rachel laughed, and Madeline vowed that this would be the last conversation-beyond polite small talk-that she would ever have with Rachel McMann. The woman was a pit viper. “Of course not!” Rachel said. “Grace was too busy screwing the gardener!”

“So Eddie’s in jail, then?” Madeline said.

“Out on bail,” Rachel said. “I guess the check Grace wrote bounced, so his sister and Glenn Daley had to come save the day. They’re seeing each other, you know.”

“Barbie and Glenn?” Madeline said. She had thought they were mortal enemies. “How do you know all this?”

“How does anyone know anything?” Rachel said. “I heard it on the street. People are talking.”


Madeline hung up with Rachel, took ten breaths, walked to the window, and gazed down onto Centre Street. People are talking. Sure enough, there on the corner of India and Centre were Blond Sharon and Susan Prendergast, blabbering away.

Madeline wanted to call Trevor, but he would be in the air.

My fifty thousand dollars, gone, she thought. Really and truly gone. Madeline thought she would feel complete devastation, but instead she experienced a kind of relief. The money was gone, and so she was freed from worrying about it.

All she could think about was Grace. Poor Grace! Madeline decided the time had come to set aside her fear and pride.

She called Grace’s cell phone. No answer, but Madeline wasn’t surprised. She hung up without leaving a message.

Next, she called the house. Her heart was hammering, and her temples throbbed. She hadn’t been this nervous since… she couldn’t remember when. Maybe ever.

One of the twins answered. “Hello?” The voice sounded very curious; of course, Madeline’s name would have popped up on the caller ID.

Madeline exhaled. It was Hope.

“Hi, Hope,” Madeline said. She thought about identifying herself, but that seemed awkward and pointless. Hope knew who it was. “Is your mom there?”

“She’s here,” Hope said. “But she told us she doesn’t want to talk to anyone on the phone.”

“Okay,” Madeline said. “Tell her I’m on my way over.”


Grace was sitting on the front step when Madeline arrived. Madeline thought maybe she might be holding a shotgun to ward Madeline off, but she was holding something even more surprising. A cigarette. Grace was smoking.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Grace said. “I used to smoke in college.”

“I didn’t know that,” Madeline said.

“See?” Grace said. “Still things to learn about your best friend.”

The phrase best friend floated between them, a peace offering. Madeline took both of Grace’s hands. “What’s going on?” she said.

Grace stubbed her cigarette out on the front step. “Let’s go upstairs,” she said.


They assumed the same postures that they had weeks earlier, back when Grace had just kissed Benton for the first time. Madeline sat in the green leather chair, and Grace fell face first across the crushed-velvet sofa. Madeline recalled her words from that night. I’ll point out, Grace, because I’m your best friend and it’s my job, that no good can come of this.

No good.

Madeline thought that Grace might want to start with what had happened to Eddie, but instead, her lower lip wobbled, and she burst into tears. I thought Benton and I were in love; I was making plans to leave Eddie, maybe as soon as the end of the summer. But then Benton and I were in the garden shed making love, and Eddie came home and found us. He didn’t see anything, but he knew what was happening, obviously, and he told Benton to leave and never come back. Grace swallowed. And Benton left. I’ve been trying to get ahold of him, but he’s shutting me out. He sent me a text saying he’s moving to Detroit!

Madeline sat on the floor next to the sofa and rubbed Grace’s back while she cried. Madeline would never say so out loud, but this was probably all for the best.

Or maybe not. Maybe the best ending was the one Angie had described and the one Madeline had written. I want an ending where the woman is happy instead of good.

Madeline reached into her bag and pulled out her manuscript. She had planned on giving it to Grace as a symbolic gesture-Grace could shred it or burn it; Madeline didn’t care.

But now she had a different idea.

“Listen,” she said. “I did write a novel that was based on your relationship with Benton.”

Grace raised her face. “You did not! I thought that was just a stupid rumor. I didn’t think there was any way you would…”

“I did,” Madeline said. “And here it is.” She plopped the manuscript down on the side table. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to publish it.”

“You can’t publish it, Madeline!” Grace said. “Especially not now!”

“I know, I know, Grace,” Madeline said. “I told my publisher to pull it off the list.”

Grace sat up, and her expression turned to one of rage. “I can’t believe you! I told you about Benton because you are my friend! My best friend! And what? You used everything I told you? You promised you would never betray me, but you did. You did!”

“I’m sorry, Grace,” Madeline said. “I wrote it out of desperation. I was so blocked. I spent the money on the stupid apartment, and then, when I sat down to write, the only story that came to mind was yours. I fought the urge for a while, but I was worried about money. I tried to get my fifty thousand back from Eddie, but I couldn’t, and I was angry about that, and frustrated, and scared. But you’re right. I had no business using your story. And that’s why I told my editor I couldn’t publish it. She was really, really pissed off. She loved it.”

“She did?” Grace said.

“It’s a good novel, Grace. It’s a real love story. Maybe you should read it.”

Grace regarded the manuscript skeptically. “I don’t know about that,” she said.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Madeline said. “And, even though you’re angry about my book, and even though I’m angry about what Allegra did to Brick, I am here with you in your study. I am here, Grace.”

Grace looked at Madeline and dissolved into more tears. “What am I going to do now?” she said.

“Take a deep breath,” Madeline said. “Tell me about Eddie.”