Nick was still gone. Downstairs again, I stopped pacing and stared at the front door. What was I supposed to do? Stay there all day and wait? The front door gave no reply.

But Charlie did. “Get out, Miss Zoe!” I heard him wheeze. “Hurry up. Leave before it’s too late.”

I didn’t argue. I wanted to get the hell out of there, not wait around to hear excuses and lies. But how was I supposed to leave? Nick had taken the car. Should I call a cab? Did they even have cabs way out in Chester County? At the crack of dawn?

Finally, as the sun rose higher, I’d had enough. I wasn’t helpless, didn’t have to stay there waiting. I had options. The Volvo was gone, but Molly and I had legs. There were snowshoes in the shed. We could walk back to Philadelphia if we had to, or at least to a highway. I’d take the cell phone, and when we found a main road I’d call Susan and tell her where we were. She’d come and get us. Good. I felt better already; I wasn’t trapped. I had a plan.

I gathered my clothing in a rush, but trembling, rushing, I had trouble putting it on. My feet kept missing, wouldn’t go into the leg holes of my jeans, got stuck halfway. The harder I shoved my feet into them, the more the fabric resisted. Finally, I gathered the material at the bottom and held it open, aiming my toes through the holes as if I were threading a needle. Calm down, I told myself. Find your socks. Put on your boots. My skin stung as my sweater rubbed spots Nick’s rough whiskers had scraped raw. Damn Nick. Cheating lying sonofabitch. Controlling manipulating two-faced bastard. Cursing him felt good. I straightened my sweater and smeared away angry tears with the back of my hand.

Finally, my clothes were on. I was ready to go. All I had to do was bundle up Molly and get the snowshoes. Then we’d hit the road.

FIFTY-FOUR

MOLLY’S FIRST THOUGHT UPON WAKING WAS ABOUT HER tooth. It was still there, hanging tentatively to a few strands of tissue. Her second thought was of Nick.

“He’s not here.”

“Why not? Where’d he go?”

“He went back to town. Here. Put your socks on.”

“Why’d he go back to town?”

“He didn’t say.”

“But Mommy, he said we could make banana pancakes. He promised.”

“I know. Something came up. Here, pull this over the turtle-neck. It’s cold out.”

“Can we make pancakes, Mommy?”

“Maybe later. Not now. Now we’re going outside. Put your arm in.”

“But Nick said—”

“Mollybear, put your arm in the sleeve? Good.” “He said we could—”

“For now, let’s fix just a snack, okay? We’ll see about pancakes later.”

Finally, she was dressed. I made cinnamon toast and filled a thermos with hot cocoa for the road. I’d never walked in snow-shoes, had no idea if Molly would be able to. Maybe Nick had a sled. A sled would be much better, easier to negotiate.

I looked out the kitchen window, squinting at the shed, searching, hoping to see a sled. Snow was falling in large, heavy flakes. The woodpile was already buried, a tiny lump on a blanket-covered mountain. I couldn’t see a sled, but there might be one out there. If there was no sled, we’d put on the snow-shoes and be on our way. I zipped Molly into her jacket and gazed outside, assessing the depth of the snow—and dimly, through the blizzard, I saw a bulky shape hunkering at the door of the shed. Forget the damned snowshoes, I thought. We had a better way to get home.

It was sitting right there by the shed, a big yellow plow hooked up to its front end. I could drive a stick shift, could probably manage a pickup truck.

I pulled on my jacket. Good. I had a new plan. First, we’d gather our bags and pack up our toast and cocoa. Then, we’d go out back, climb into that baby, start the engine, and roar the fuck out of there.

FIFTY-FIVE

GET THE KEYS, I TOLD MYSELF. BUT WHERE WERE THE KEYS? Were we never going to get out of there? Nick’s bags were scattered near the door. Maybe the keys were in there. Unless they were outside in the truck. Damn. I hadn’t seen keys when I’d looked through his stuff. Maybe they were hanging on a hook somewhere, or lying in a kitchen drawer.

“What are you doing?” Molly watched me ransack Nick’s kitchen.

“Looking for keys to Nick’s