Lewis - No Place to Hide

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all

E MILY D ICKINSON

Present DayCulver, Indiana

So this was what it was like beyond the corn-silk veil.

Others called it a curtain, but she preferred veil. This allowed for a more dreamlike connection between the blue skies and still waters of this hauntingly beautiful town, and the world out there, filled with cornfields, highways, cities, oceansthe world, the family, shed left behind.

To get here shed flown through storms and time zones, driven for mile after mile across vast swaths of farmland, forests, and yet more farmland, taking perfectly straight roads through the heart of it all. Shed passed poor and jumbled communities, stopped in flashy highway oases, spotted birds of prey swooping and soaring Icarus-like to the sun, and all the time shed wondered what kind of a place she was heading toward.

It wasnt anything like shed expected. It was a town of many contrasts, hidden stories, troubled history, settled on a lake that glistened like a lost jewel in the middle of nowhere.

It was the second week of September now. Summer was officially over, though the sun continued to warm the immaculate streets, and flowers bloomed as eagerly as the birds sang. The tourists whod swelled the population to many times its normal size throughout the season had vanished with Labor Day, leaving the place as tranquil, as perfect, as a photograph, and for long moments at a time as still.

Justine Cantrell was standing at the edge of Lake Maxinkuckee, her bare feet sinking into gritty sand, her fine, honey-colored curls bobbing on a wayward breeze. The sunlight was so bright on the water that she had to narrow her green eyes to peer across to the opposite shore, perhaps two miles distant. The magnificent multimillion-dollar mansions nestling among the greenery were barely visible from here.

Are you crazy? Matt, her husband, had protested when shed told him where she was going. You cant.

Where else would you suggest? shed countered quietly.

I dont know, but so farJustine, youre not thinking straight.

She could almost have smiled at that. Are you? shed asked.

He didnt answer, because they both knew he wasnt.

Neither of them could, and probably never would again.

Its been so many years, hed stated, as if she didnt know. You have no family there now. You dont know anyone to help you get started.

Isnt that the point? To go to a place where no one knows me?

She could hear their conversation as though the rippling water spread out before her was carrying it to her across the miles, sighing its meaning, its pain and hopelessness into the very depths of her heart.

Eighteen Years EarlierLondon, UK

Theyre here! Matt called out as the entryphones buzzer rang down the hall.

In the bedroom Justine smiled, not only because of how pleased Matt always was to see his brotherhe was already opening the front door and shouting down the four flights of stairs to ask if Simon needed any helpbut because of the way thirteen-month-old Abby began bouncing gleefully on the bed. It was debatable what Abby loved most in the world: visitors, since she was nothing if not Miss Sociable, or music. And it was music of just about any kind, they were rapidly discovering, for they could play her virtually anything from Dire Straits to Billie Holiday to Blur and shed either dance in her awkward toddler way, or try to sing along, or simply sit with Matt and listen, appearing rapt.

In spite of being almost nine months pregnant, Justine managed to scoop up their adorable daughter, who instantly shrieked Dada! and shot out her chubby arms.

Matt was standing in the bedroom doorway, his deep-set smoky gray eyes shining with love as he took Abby into one arm and put the other around Justine.

He was a little over six feet tall, had a loose, rangy physique, and thick, dark hair that curled willfully around his high cheekbones and slender neck. Though he was undeniably good-looking, at least to her mind, it was his remarkable eyes with their flecks of violet and lazy glimmer of intrigue that had drawn her to him when theyd first met as students. There was also his smile, so captivatingly radiant it had actually made her blink.

She loved everything about him, and knew what he loved about her: the silky honey tones of her hair, the riot of freckles that darkened her creamy skin, the throaty laugh that encouraged his jokes, the way she embraced his impulsiveness, and often matched it with a spontaneity of her own.

Almost since theyd become a couple everyone had wanted to be around them. Their enthusiasm, recklessness, sheer joie de vivre was as infectious as their generosity. By the time they married, at the age of twenty-two, it already felt as though theyd known each other all their lives.

With his degrees in politics and Arabic, Matts internship with the BBC news channel had soon resulted in a permanent position, while Justine started her working life as a teaching assistant at a nearby primary school, mainly to fill time until their first childconceived around the time of the weddingcame into the world. Her qualifications in drama and business studies would always come in handy further down the line; what mattered for now was giving their unexpected little treasure the very best start in life.