When Grace woke up at midnight, Eddie was still out. Still at the rental on Low Beach Road? Or possibly tying one on at a bar in town? Grace didn’t even feel she could text and ask him. She crept down the hallway to her study and looked again at the article in the Sunday Boston Globe. There were her hydrangeas, her roses, her Adirondack chairs—all looking perfectly, professionally styled. There was the footbridge and the brook and Polpis Harbor beyond. There was the gardening shed and the copper farmer’s sink, which she now wanted to tear out and deliver to the take-it-or-leave-it pile at the dump. And there were Grace and Benton, seated at the teak table in their accustomed places, raising their champagne glasses and smiling out at all the beauty they had created.

She texted Benton: I miss you.

Silence.

Eleven minutes later (she had meant to wait fifteen but couldn’t), she texted: I know you miss me.

Silence.

There was nothing in the world, she decided, that wounded like silence.

Ever since the night of the séance, Grace had harbored mixed feelings about her sister-in-law, Barbie. Two of the women at this table will betray the person on their left. Eddie had been to Grace’s left, Grace had been to Madeline’s left, and Trevor had been to Barbie’s left. Barbie would never be in a position to betray Trevor, and it was pretty clear Barbie wasn’t referring to herself, anyway.

Grace would betray Eddie.

Madeline would betray Grace.

Barbie had been right: Grace had started her affair with Benton Coe six months later. Did Barbie have psychic powers? Or had Barbie’s saying the words influenced Grace’s behavior? Grace went back and forth on the question, but she had never viewed Barbie the same way since. And after the séance, Barbie had stopped joining Grace, Eddie, and the twins at the holidays. She claimed this was because she preferred traveling with one of her mystery men, but Grace always felt like Barbie had discovered something rotten about Grace and wanted to distance herself.

Besides, Barbie Pancik was, by nature, a very private person and hard to get close to. Her loyalties lay staunchly with Eddie and the business and, beyond that, with herself.

Imagine, then, Grace’s surprise to find Barbie Pancik standing over her bed in the middle of the night, shaking Grace awake.

Grace cried out. It was a bad dream, Barbie looming over her, the black pearl swinging like a pendulum, her perfume suffusing the atmosphere of the bedroom.

“Grace, you have to wake up,” Barbie said.

Bad dream. But no, not a dream. For some unfathomable reason, Barbie Pancik was in her bedroom. Bad something, something bad. Grace looked to her right—no Eddie. Eddie was dead. There was no other reason why Barbie Pancik would be here. Eddie had found out about Grace and Benton and had killed himself.

Grace clamped her hand over her mouth and shook her head.

Barbie lowered herself onto the mattress next to Grace and said, “You have to listen to me.”

“No,” Grace whispered. “Nonononono.”

“Eddie is in trouble. There was a misunderstanding at the house on Low Beach Road, and the FBI have him in custody.”

Grace went back to thinking, Bad dream. Because what Barbie was saying, even if she was real—which she did indeed seem to be—made no sense. FBI? What kind of misunderstanding could bring the FBI?

Barbie handed Grace a glass of water from the nightstand. “I want you to drink this, and then I’m going to tell you some things that you are never, ever to repeat. Do you understand me?”

Grace accepted the water and nodded. Barbie would have made a good mother, Grace decided.

Barbie said, “The FBI have Eddie because they suspect him of running a prostitution ring on Low Beach Road.”

Grace blinked, then carefully set the water back down.

Barbie said, “Possibly, he’s admitted to it. He didn’t exactly tell me.”

“Admitted to it,” Grace said.

“Ben Winford is with him now, but I think he may have opened his mouth before Ben arrived. Apparently, Eddie hasn’t watched as much Law and Order as I have.”

“Law and Order?” Grace asked.

Barbie said, “I need you to get dressed. You’re going down to the police station to bail him out.”

“Me?” Grace said. “What about you? Are you coming?”

“No,” Barbie said. “I need to distance myself from this. For business reasons.”

“Is it true?” Grace asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Barbie said. “Unless they can prove it.”

For some reason, Nadia, one of Eddie’s housecleaners, was at the police station. Grace blinked, thinking again, Bad dream, nightmare, the kind where people from different parts of her life showed up in places where they didn’t belong. Why would Nadia be here? It was a mistake. But when Grace was ushered into the back of the station to post Eddie’s bail, she saw Nadia, or a girl who looked exactly like Nadia, sitting in one of the interrogation rooms. Grace was so stunned that she took a step backward and peered in the room to make sure. Definitely Nadia. Grace heard her say, “I just clean the houses…” And then whoever else was in the room wisely closed the door.

Then Grace saw Eddie’s other four cleaning girls sitting on folding chairs in front of the officer on duty. Grace had met them all en masse at one point, but she couldn’t remember anyone’s name except for Nadia’s. The girls were in tube skirts, and they had all removed pairs of very high-heeled shoes. One girl was rubbing her feet, one girl was softly crying. They smelled sharp and antiseptic, like hair spray and cheap perfume. They looked… well, here Grace sighed. They looked like hookers. Eddie had been using his cleaning crew as prostitutes. Grace’s stomach turned.