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the gallery. She was a kind woman in her early forties, never married, with no children, and she loved Sasha's as her own. And then as an afterthought in the midst of lightning and chaos, “I love you, Tati. I'll be home as soon as I can.” Sasha was shaking from head to foot as soon as she put down the phone. And in a moment of total madness, she dialed Arthur's cell phone. His secretary, Mrs. Jenkins, picked it up. She had been just about to call Sasha. Tatianna had gotten to her first. For an insane instant, Sasha wanted to believe Arthur would answer his phone. His secretary did instead.

“I'm so sorry, Mrs. Boardman…I'm so sorry…it was so sudden. I didn't know … he never called me… I saw him five minutes before. I went in to have him sign some papers, and he was slumped over his desk. He was already gone. They tried … but they couldn't do anything.” She spared Sasha the scene of horror that she'd seen when they tried to revive him and failed. She was crying, too. “I'll do everything I can. Is there someone I should call? The hospital? The funeral home? I'm so sorry…”

“I'll do it all when I get home.” Or Marcie would. She didn't want anyone else making decisions about her husband. She didn't even want to be making them herself. And first, she had to call their son.

Sasha quickly told Eugénie, her secretary in Paris, what had happened, asked her to get her on a flight, and to go next door to pick up her things. Her secretary was stunned. She didn't want to believe it at first, but when she saw the look on Sasha's face, she knew it was true. Sasha was sheet white and looked like she was in shock. Eugénie watched Sasha's hands shake like leaves when she picked up the phone to call Xavier.

Eugénie left the room then, and came back a moment later with a cup of tea, and then disappeared to make her flight arrangements. By then, Sasha was crying on the phone to Xavier, who was as distraught as she was. He offered to fly to Paris to meet her, and fly home with her. But if his flight was delayed, she knew they might miss each other. She told him to go straight to New York, that night if he could. Not that it would make a difference to his father now, but it would to her, and Tatianna. Xavier was crying softly when he hung up. The rest of the night was a blur.

Eugénie had packed Sasha's bag as she'd asked her to do, and canceled her plans for the week. Her trip to Brussels would have to wait. Her whole life had just been destroyed in a single moment. Sasha couldn't even get her mind around it, and didn't want to try. Her secretary and her gallery manager drove her to the airport, and after hovering over her like worried parents, they put her on the plane. They discreetly explained to the agent at the gate what had happened, after she boarded. They were both afraid of how she would be on the plane. Bernard, her manager, had offered to fly with her, but Sasha had bravely declined, and regretted it the moment the plane took off. She was overwhelmed by a wave of panic so powerful, she was afraid she would have a heart attack herself. One of the flight attendants told another that Sasha had literally turned green and broken out in a sweat. They covered her in blankets, asked the passenger next to her to move to another seat, and the purser had sat next to her for a short time. They asked her if she had tranquilizers with her and she said she didn't, and never took them. But she had never before lost her husband, either. She hadn't even felt this way when her father died, which was bad enough. But he had been eighty-nine years old, and he himself had warned her frequently that it would happen one day, and she knew it would. She had been prepared for it, more or less. But not for this. Not Arthur. He had told her he loved her only the day before. She had left him asleep in bed in Southampton, and now he was gone. It wasn't possible. It wasn't happening. Except it was. The only time she remembered feeling this