inona was a wreck. For the past twenty-four hours she’d been working nonstop: rereading the transcripts, rehearsing her oral arguments, getting ready for what could well turn out to be the single most important day in her life.

Even a month ago, she would have been certain about the outcome of today’s proceedings. Then, she’d had the kind of confidence that came from a belief that the world worked in a predictable way, that endings could be foreseen based on an understanding of the events that came before.

Now she knew better. The prosecution’s dogged determination to preserve the conviction had proven Vivi Ann’s point. They had even thrown in a ridiculous argument about the requisite finality of verdicts—as if reliability were somehow more important than fairness. There might be an animal called absolute truth, but it couldn’t be caged and certainly didn’t roam the halls of justice. In her research for Dallas’s case, she’d read about more than one hundred men who’d been freed from prison in the past five years based on DNA testimony... and even more who hadn’t. Those unfortunate souls were all too often in Dallas’s position: DNA evidence neither tied them irrefutably to the crime nor wholly exonerated them. It amazed—and shamed—Winona how inflexible district attorneys and police could be once they decided on a defendant’s guilt. Often no amount of evidence could dissuade them, and so they kept fighting, making specious, ridiculous arguments that kept innocent people in prison for decades.

“Breathe,” Aurora commanded beside her.

“I’m going to faint.”

“No, you’re not. Now breathe,” Aurora said again, more gently this time, as she guided her to the long, low table on the left side of the courtroom. “Good luck,” she whispered, and she was gone.

Winona sat down, looking through glazed eyes at the yellow legal pads, boxes of files, and stacks of pens in front of her. An open laptop stared bleakly back at her. She could hear the courtroom filling up. She wanted to turn and look, but knew it would only heighten her anxiety. Too many of her friends and neighbors would be there; they’d come to be calmed, to be told that the system had worked.

Then she heard a door open and the rattle of chains. The courtroom went quiet.

Winona finally stood and turned.

A pair of uniformed guards were leading Dallas toward her. He was dressed in the new blue suit she’d purchased for him, with his hair drawn back into a loose ponytail. Even in chains, with his steps shortened and his wrists manacled together, he managed to look defiant. It was those pale gray eyes that did it. She saw the way he searched the faces in the crowd until he saw Vivi Ann; only then did his angry defiance soften.

Vivi Ann stood perfectly erect, her shoulders drawn back, but when she saw Dallas, everything about her melted. It looked as if only Aurora and Noah, who held her tightly between them, kept her from sinking slowly to her knees.

Dallas shuffled up to Winona, shackles clanking, and sat in the chair beside her. “She looks...” His voice trailed away. “And Noah... my God...”

“Do you want me to bring them here to talk to you? I’m sure—”

“No.” It was barely spoken. “Not like this.”

Winona touched his hand, and he flinched, reminding her how long it must have been since someone last touched him in an attempt to comfort.

The judge strode into the courtroom, taking his seat at the bench. “Be seated,” he said, putting on his glasses and glancing down at the papers. “We are here for oral arguments on the defendant’s motion to vacate the judgment and sentence and to dismiss the case.”

Sara Hamm stood. “Sara Hamm for the state, Your Honor. That is correct.”

“I’ll hear from the defense,” the judge said.

Winona released her hold on Dallas and stood up. “Winona Grey for the defendant, Dallas Raintree. As you can see from the pleadings, our motion is based on new evidence, specifically the testing of DNA found at the scene of the crime. At trial...”

For almost an hour, she pled her case, citing legal precedent as well as moral imperatives. In conclusion, she said, “It is a travesty of justice, what our legal system has done to Dallas Raintree. It’s time to right an old wrong and exonerate him.”

The courtroom erupted into noise. Everyone was talking at once.

The judge hit his gavel and said, “Silence.” Then he looked at Sara. “The state’s response, Ms. Hamm?”

The prosecuting attorney stood up, looking as calm as Winona looked harried. “Your Honor, the record in this case is clear and cogent, and no interpretation of this DNA evidence can lead to exoneration of the defendant. If it did, we would have joined the defense’s motion. The state has no interest in keeping innocent men in prison. Quite the contrary, but in this case, a jury studied the evidence in its totality and found Dallas Raintree guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. And what was that evidence? Let me go through it.”

For nearly two hours, Sara Hamm wielded her evidence like a blunt object. When she was done, she looked up at the judge. “So you see, Your Honor, the right man was convicted in 1996. The state asks that the conviction be upheld.”

Winona’s throat was dry. It took remarkable effort to sit there in silence, watching the judge read through the pleadings.

Finally, the judge turned the last page and looked up. “I see no reason to take this under advisement. The facts and arguments seem clear. The defendant’s motion is denied. Prisoner is remanded into custody.” He banged his gavel; it sounded like thunder. “Next case.”

The courtroom erupted into noise again.

Winona sat there, stunned.

“Nice try,” Dallas said. “Tell Vivi—”

And then the guards were there, taking him away again. She could hear Noah calling out; he was probably trying to push through the crowd, but it was too late.

Slowly, she turned around and saw Vivi Ann, holding Noah. Both of them were crying.

Winona sank onto her chair and sat there, staring dully at the bench. Behind her, she could hear the courtroom emptying out, hear the raised voices of the spectators, who said I knew it to one another. She knew Aurora would be confused right now, her loyalties split, her mind questioning which sister needed her more. In the end, though, it would be Vivi Ann who seemed the more broken, and thus would Aurora’s choice be made. As it should be.

“You were fantastic.”

She was so desperate for comfort that she’d gone a little mad, imagined his voice. Expecting nothing, she glanced to her left.

Luke stood there, not quite smiling as he reached down and offered his hand. “Come on.”

Thirty years ago, he’d done exactly the same thing, and it had been the beginning for them. It gets easier, he’d said then, and those few words had been a bit of Styrofoam to keep her afloat. And here he was again, just when she needed a friend. She picked up her heavy briefcase and directed Luke to help her with the boxes. For nearly an hour they loaded and unloaded the useless notes and files she’d accumulated in her quest to exonerate Dallas, saying nothing. When it was all done, she led him back to her house, made two drinks, and followed him out into the backyard, where they sat in the porch swing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” was the first thing he said when they were in their seats.

“There isn’t much to say. Vivi was right. In the end, all I did was hurt them.” She glanced at him. “I suppose you’ll say I was always like that.”

“No.”

Something in his voice surprised her; a sadness, maybe. “Why are you here, Luke?”

“I thought you needed a friend.”

She could tell by looking at him there was more. “And?”

He smiled at that. “And I needed one, too.”

“Trouble with the wife?”

“Ex-wife.”

Winona frowned. “When did that happen?”

“Three years ago.”

“And you never told me? Why?”

“I was embarrassed. I think I told you once she was my soul mate.”

“More than once, actually.”

He smiled ruefully, looking like a kid again, caught red-handed. “I guess my soul mate had itchy feet. She went to the store one day and didn’t come back. We signed the papers last week. The worst part is that she doesn’t even want to see the girls.”

“Oh, Luke. How are they doing?”

“Not so good. At four and six, they can’t understand all this; they keep asking when she’ll be back. It isn’t good, maybe, to stay in a house that holds so many ghosts.”

“Or a town,” Winona said, wondering how long it would be before she stopped thinking about Dallas every time she drove down Shore Drive, or into Water’s Edge. She leaned back, staring out at her yard. In the falling night everything looked silvery and a little surreal. “Maybe you should go see Vivi Ann. She could use a shoulder these days.”

“You’re the one I came to see,” he said quietly, and the whole of their past was between them suddenly, the light spots and the dark. He reached over and took her hand. “I was proud of you today.”

“Thanks,” she said, surprised by how much the simple compliment meant to her. In all the emotion and loss she’d stirred up recently, she’d forgotten how much it meant that for once, she’d done things for the right reasons. Too bad that only made it hurt more.

I never even got to talk to him. It all happened so fast. One minute we were sitting there, listening to that bitch lie about my dad and then it was over and everyone was moving and they were taking him away in chains.

Mom said don’t worry Noah, you’ll get through this I promise. But how am I supposed to not care that he’s in there alone?

My mom was right. I wish I’d never started all this. It hurts too much.

“How is she?” Winona asked.

“You know Vivi. She’s being extra quiet and not going out much. I hear Noah is getting in trouble at school again.” Aurora paused in her work. She was busy creating a counter display for the store. “But they’ll be fine. It’s only been a week. She’ll get better again.”

Winona turned away from the gentle understanding in her sister’s gaze. She walked idly around the empty store, pretending to study the pretty trinkets for sale—the blown-glass wind chimes, mother-of-pearl earrings, pretty stained-glass windows that depicted the Canal and the mountains.

“Maybe we can get her to come to the Outlaw this weekend,” Aurora said, coming up behind her.

That was how it would be done, the reparation; they would go back to their routines and in time, this failure, too, would be forgotten. Almost. “Sure.”

Behind them, the tiny brass bell above the door made a tinkling sound.

Aurora elbowed Winona in the side, and she turned.

Mark stood beside a glass display full of local pearls. He looked exactly the same—touristy clothes, balding head, broad shoulders—and that surprised Winona somehow. With all that had happened lately it felt as if they all should look different.

She saw surprise register in his eyes and she didn’t move, didn’t even smile. An awkward hesitation seemed to fill the tiny gift shop, and then Mark moved toward her, smiling uncomfortably.

She met him halfway, forced a smile, and said, “Hey, Mark.”

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he said. “You never come to the beach house anymore.”

“I’ve got it up for rent.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at Aurora, then back at her. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.”

She caught Aurora’s quizzical look, shrugged a little, and followed Mark to the door.

Outside it was a beautiful day. They walked down Shore Drive to the beach park and sat on an empty picnic table. Normally Winona would have filled the silence with nervous talk, saying anything to avoid nothing, but in the past months she’d learned a thing or two about words. Sometimes you needed to wait for the ones that mattered.

“I was wrong,” he said at last. “I still think you should have warned my mom and me, but I should have known you had to do what you did.”

“It didn’t end up meaning anything.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say to that, so he said nothing.

“I appreciate this,” she said.

“For what it matters, my mom is certain it was him.”

“And I’m certain it wasn’t. But I know your mom isn’t lying. Please tell her that. I just believe she’s mistaken.”

“That won’t help, but I’ll tell her.”

Winona nodded. She couldn’t think of anything else to say, so she got up. “Well, I—”

He took her by the hand. “I miss you. Do you think we could try it again?”

Winona was surprised by that. She turned slightly and looked at him, really looked, and what she saw was a man she’d liked once, and wanted to love, but never had. It freed something in her, that unexpected realization. She’d seen love in that courtroom when Dallas looked at Vivi Ann, and Winona knew that was what she wanted. She wouldn’t accept a watered-down version ever again. “No,” she said, making her voice a little soft. “We didn’t fall in love,” she said. “But I want to be friends, if you do.”

He smiled, maybe even looked a little relieved. “Friends with benefits?”

Winona laughed at that, thinking how good it felt to be wanted, and how empowering it was to say quietly, “I don’t think so.”

Winona stared down at the latest court case on the unreliability of hair analysis, wondering if it was enough for an appeal.

Her intercom buzzed.

“Winona? Vivi Ann is here to see you.”

Winona sighed. “Send her in.” Getting up, she went over to the window and stared out. The backyard reflected the change in seasons. Deep autumn jewel tones had replaced the summer’s brightness. The petunias were ragged and tired, the roses leggy and untamed. Summer was gone and she’d hardly noticed.

In the months since her loss in court she hadn’t noticed anything, really. Instead of curing her obsession, the loss had inflamed it. She couldn’t seem to let go of the image of Dallas in prison. And her weekly visits weren’t helping. Dallas had given up completely, if in fact he’d ever actually believed in hope.

“Hey, Win.”

“Ironic that my nickname is Win, don’t you think?” she said, not looking at her sister. She should have picked up her office. Now Vivi Ann was seeing the reams of Post-it-tagged paper, the file folders lying open.

“This all about Dallas?” she asked.

Winona nodded. Lying was something they didn’t do anymore. “Transcripts, police reports, depositions, interrogation notes.” She knew she should shut up, but that was the problem with an addiction: you couldn’t control it or yourself when under its influence. “It’s everything. I’ve read it all so many times I’m going blind. There’s so much that was wrong—the tattoo, the lack of real investigation, the rush to judgment, Roy’s ridiculously inadequate defense, the DNA—but none of it means anything legally. Even though it means everything.”

“I know.”

“You knew it all along.”

“I didn’t just give up on him,” she said quietly. “I spent years believing in a good ending.”

Winona finally looked at her sister. “I failed him. And Noah. And you.”

“You didn’t fail him,” Vivi Ann said. “Sometimes we just can’t save the people we love.”

Winona didn’t know how to live in a world where that was true; she also knew she had no real choice. “How is Noah doing?”

“Not good. He keeps skipping school. Last week he flipped off his science teacher.”

“Mr. Parker?”

“Of course. If I remember, Aurora once did the same thing.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“And tell him what?”

“That I’m not giving up.”

“You think that’s what he needs to hear?”

“What would you say? Walk away? Just give up and let your dad rot in there alone?” Winona knew the minute she said it she’d gone too far. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“You’re always sorry lately.” Vivi Ann released a heavy sigh. “Do you think I don’t dream of going back in time, of standing beside him?”

“I know you do.”

“Part of me is grateful I didn’t get to talk to him in court that day. How could he ever forgive me?”

“He loves you,” Winona said.

Vivi Ann flinched at that, but like a fighter taking a blow, she kept moving. “He’s in there and you and I and Noah are out here. That’s the way it is. The way it’s going to be.”

Winona could tell what was coming and she shook her head, as if the movement could deflect incoming words.

“I’m here to tell you what you once told me: it’s time to let go. The DNA test was a good move, and you took it and it failed. We both know it was all over for Dallas years ago. It doesn’t matter whose DNA was left behind.”

“I can’t—” Winona stopped suddenly. She looked up at Vivi Ann. “What did you say?”

“It’s time to let go. It doesn’t matter whose DNA it was.”

“Jesus,” Winona said, rushing back to her desk. She began pawing through the paperwork, looking for the DNA lab work. Finding it, she grabbed the file and then pulled Vivi Ann into her arms, kissing her hard on the lips. “You’re a genius.”

“What—”

“I’ve got to go. Thanks for stopping by. Tell Noah I’ll come visit this weekend.”

“Are you hearing me? I’m trying to help you.”

“And I’m trying to help you,” Winona said, and then ran out of her office.

“Gus tells me Noah is a crappy employee,” Dad said to Vivi Ann as they stood near each other on the porch on a cool September morning. Dawn was breaking across the ranch, setting the arena’s metal roof on vibrant silver fire.

“He’s having some trouble dealing with all this. He really thought Winona was going to get Dallas released.”

“Winona,” Dad said, and Vivi Ann heard the poison tip to his voice. Had it always been there when he mentioned his eldest daughter? The more she saw of him lately, the farther she pulled back. She could go whole days without talking to him at all. It wasn’t that she was angry with him; quite the contrary. But now that she’d seen the bitterness inside him, she had trouble seeing past it.

She looked up and saw Noah come out of their cottage. He moved down the hill in that lanky, loose-hipped way that always reminded her of Dallas. Her son was growing by leaps and bounds. Since his fifteenth birthday, he’d begun to look down on her—when he looked at her at all. Up on the hill, he walked over to the paddock, stood at the rail.

Renegade turned to face him, whinnying, but he didn’t move forward, even though Noah was offering him a carrot.

“Ain’t never seen a horse turn down food,” her dad said.

“Some hearts can be broken,” Vivi Ann said, hurting for her son, knowing what he needed right now... knowing that she couldn’t provide it. No mother should ever have to feel so helpless with her child. She pushed away from the wall and headed for the steps.

It was time to say to Noah what she’d said to Winona.

“I’m taking a day off, Dad.”

“What about your lessons?”

“I only have a few. I’ll cancel.” Without waiting for his permission, or even his agreement, she muttered goodbye and walked up the hill, through the dewy grass. Tucking her work gloves into her belt, she came up beside Noah.

“How do we tell him Dad won’t be coming back?”

Vivi Ann stroked her son’s silky black hair. “I think if Renegade knew that, he’d lie down and die.”

“I know how he feels.”

Vivi Ann stood there with her son, staring at the black horse. The white lines of his long-ago abuse were faded, visible only if you knew where to look. Scars were like that, she thought; they faded but never went away completely. “Get your coat. We’re leaving now.”

“School doesn’t start for another hour and a half.”

“I know. Get your coat.”

“But—”

“I’m taking you out of school for the day. Do you really want to argue?”

“No way.”

They went their separate ways for fifteen minutes and then met back at the truck.

“This is totally cool, Mom,” Noah said as they drove past the high school.

For the next two and a half hours, they talked about little things: the ranch, the mare that was ready to foal, Noah’s paper on the Civil War.

It wasn’t until Vivi Ann turned off the highway and began the long, slow climb into the Olympic National Park that Noah seemed to take stock of his surroundings. He straightened in his seat, looking around. “This is the road to Sol Duc.”

“Yes, it is.”

Noah turned to her. “I don’t want to do this, Mom.”

“I know,” she said. “I’ve been running away from it, too, but some things have to be faced.”

By the time they reached the main lodge, it was just past nine o’clock in the morning. The parking lot was nearly empty on this mid-September day.

She parked the truck and got out, putting on her Windbreaker and zipping it up. It was sunny at the moment, but this was deep in the heart of the rain forest, where the weather was fickle.

Noah stood by the truck, watching her as she came around to his side. “I can’t go up there.”

Vivi Ann took his hand, as she should have done so long ago. “Come on.” She tugged on his hand, felt him resist for the merest of time and then relent.

They hiked up the trail that was bordered by towering cedars on either side, into a world of impossible vibrance. Everything was green and rich here, and oversized. The trail wound deeper and deeper into the forest, taking her into her own past.

At the falls, they were alone, just the two of them: mother and son, as once it had been husband and wife. The area thundered with the sound of falling water; spray flew everywhere, stinging their cheeks and blurring their vision.

Noah stood at the railing and looked out at the falls.

Vivi Ann put her arm around him. “He loved it here, just like you do.”

Noah jutted his chin in answer. She knew he was afraid his voice would crack or betray him if he said more.

She held her hand out; spray fell like diamonds into her palm and turned instantly liquid. “He called this skukum lemenser. Strong medicine.” She touched her wet fingertips to her son’s temple as if it were holy water she’d gathered. “I should have taught you so many things about him and his people. But I never learned enough. Maybe we could work on that. Go to the reservation or something.”

He turned, wiping his eyes—whether from tears or spray, she couldn’t tell—and went to the small bower beneath the cedar tree.

Vivi Ann had prepared herself for this during the long drive, but now that the time had come, she was afraid. She followed Noah, sat beside him. As before, the waterfall sounded like an army thundering through the trees. Droplets of water fell from the boughs.

D.R. loves V.G.R. 8/21/92. She stared at the carving in the tree, remembering everything about that day. The girl who’d been here had believed in love and happy endings. She’d been strong and sure of herself, having married the man she loved even if the whole world despised her for it. That girl, like her son, would have fought for the DNA test and dared to believe in the truth. “I was wrong and you were right. You can’t run away from what’s in your heart. That was the mistake I made.”

“I know why you didn’t want Aunt Winona and me to reopen everything. I get it now.” Noah leaned against the tree. “He’s never getting out, is he?”

Vivi Ann put her hand on his cheek, seeing Dallas in his son’s face. “No, Noah. He’s never getting out of prison.”