or most of her life, Winona had been sure of one thing: her intellectual superiority. She might worry about her weight, or bend over backward for her father’s approval, or worry that no man would ever truly love her, but from her earliest memory, she’d felt she was the smartest person in any room.

That certainty had been one of the many recent casualties. Now she agonized constantly, second-guessed herself, wondered what she’d overlooked, how she’d screwed up. The memory of her day in court, when the judge hadn’t been moved enough by her argument to take the matter under advisement, rankled.

All her life, people had said she barreled forward, her eyes always on the prize, her hands outstretched to grab hold of what she wanted.

This year, however, had taught her caution. And humility. Even fear. She wondered sometimes at night how it would feel if this was her new life; if caution and anxiety were to be her companions from this year on. How would she handle never being certain again?

She sat in her car now, staring through the rainy windshield at the county courthouse. An American flag hung listlessly against the pole, the only splash of color amid all the gray: the sky, the clouds, the building. A mist rose up from the road, blurring it, too. Across the street, the autumn colors were muted and obscured by the weather.

Winona reached for the briefcase beside her. Clutching the leather handle, she left the safety of her car and walked forward, feeling as if every step were taking her into enemy territory. She tried to salvage some of her former confidence, but it was slippery in the rain.

At the desk, she said, “Winona Grey to see Sara Hamm. I have a ten o’clock appointment.”

The receptionist nodded and set Winona on her way through the layers of security that had become commonplace in even the most out-of-the-way counties. She put on her visitor’s tag, went through the metal detector, showed her ID twice, and was escorted to the prosecuting attorney’s office.

It was a cool, professional-looking space, with no plants in pretty pots, no family photographs on the desk. A big window looked out over the parking lot.

But it was the woman sitting behind the desk who commanded Winona’s attention.

The years had been kind to Sara Hamm. She was tall and thin, with the wiry look of a long-distance runner. Winona pegged her as the kind of woman who, when stressed, reached for her running shoes instead of the refrigerator handle.

“Ms. Grey,” she said, pushing back from her desk. The wheels of her chair rumbled on the hardwood floor. “This is a surprise. I didn’t expect to hear from you again.”

Winona sat down. “I appreciate your willingness to see me on such short notice. I couldn’t have made too good an impression the first time we met.”

That seemed to surprise Sara. Her perfectly arched eyebrows drew slightly together. “On the contrary, I found your passion impressive, even if it was misplaced. You’re his sister-in-law. I’d expect no less. May I ask why you didn’t take his case initially? Since you obviously care so much.”

“The easy answer is that I’d had no criminal experience to speak of.”

“And you have more now?”

No wonder this woman had risen in her field; she saw everything. “No.” Winona leaned forward. “What did you think of Roy’s defense?”

“It was competent.”

“Barely, and we both know it.”

“Are you going to go after him? That’s a tough criteria. Basically he needs to have fallen asleep during the proceedings, and I’m not sure even that would do it.”

“I know.” Winona sighed. “Believe me, I’ve researched every possible appellate avenue.”

“And the DNA was your best shot.”

Winona wasn’t certain if that had been a question. Perhaps. Either way, this was the moment. She steeled herself and said, “I don’t think it was. My best chance, I mean.”

Another infinitesimal frown. “Really?”

Winona tried to take a deep breath without being noticeable about it. Please let me be doing the right thing, in the right way. She’d floated her new information past the lawyers at the Innocence Project and they’d advised her to handle this motion carefully. If she could convince Sara Hamm—really convince her—a dual motion was the best way to get Dallas’s conviction overturned. Any other way would create a fight, and Winona didn’t want to fight the state again if she could help it. “Let me tell you what I believe first. Roy was an ineffective counsel at best. He never hired an investigator to study the scene or do background work. If he had, he might have found the discrepancy in Myrtle Michaelian’s testimony. She testified that she recognized Dallas’s tattoo that night, but she couldn’t have. His tattoo is on the left arm—”

“You presented all this in your petition, Ms. Grey. I don’t need to hear it again.”

“I know. I just want you to keep it in mind. Along with the fact that the DNA sample wasn’t Dallas’s. And you and I both know that the hair sample was junk science. There has been plenty of precedent set on that issue in the past ten years. If he gets a new trial, I’m certain I could get it excluded.”

“A new trial? Am I missing something? This is all old news. It’s been ruled on. The court upheld his conviction.”

Winona reached down into her briefcase and pulled out a file. Putting it on Sara’s desk, she pushed it forward. “This is new.”

Sara opened the manila file, reading the top document. “A second petition to vacate the judgment and sentence and to dismiss? And you’ve included this office? You think I’m going to join you in this motion? You’re delusional, Ms. Grey.”

“Keep reading,” Winona added. “Please.” Her last, best chance—maybe her only chance—lay in convincing this woman. If the state agreed to vacate the judgment and dismiss the case, the court would go along.

Sara turned the page and looked up sharply. “When did this come in?”

Winona knew exactly what had gotten the prosecutor’s attention. It was the test results she’d waited almost a month for. “Yesterday.”

“Oh, my God,” Sara said.

“It occurred to me that all I’d done was test the semen sample to see if it was a DNA match with my client’s. As you know, it wasn’t. I was so inexperienced, I ran with that result, certain it was enough to exonerate him. Then, about a month ago, I was talking to my sister. His wife. Anyway, she made a comment about that DNA and I realized that I’d never checked whose it was. So I sent the sample to the national database, and it matched a man named Gary Kirschner, who is currently serving a nine-year sentence at the Spring Creek Correctional Center in Seward. For rape in the first. Once we had a name, we checked the gun. Remember that unidentified fingerprint?”

“Of course,” Sara said, frowning.

“Turns out it belongs to Gary Kirschner, too.”

“Why didn’t his prints show up in 1996?”

“He hadn’t been arrested yet. He was a drifter. Meth addict who made his way through a bunch of towns around here on his way north. And before you ask, I’ll tell you that Dallas Raintree has never met Gary Kirschner.”

Sara stared down at the papers, reading through them again. “I’ll need to research this. We won’t make a snap decision. It may take some time.”

Winona stood up. “Thank you, Ms. Hamm.”

Sara nodded and kept reading.

Winona let herself out.

The big Halloween carnival at Water’s Edge is this weekend. Yippee. I hope you can read my sarcasm, Mrs. I. Not that you’re reading this journal anymore. It’s weird. I still write it to you. Why is that? I guess it’s one of your big life questions. Maybe someday I’ll ask you.

Anyway, after school I came right home to help out around the ranch. Some kids would have been pissed off by that, but they’re the kids who have friends. When you don’t, it’s totally okay to go home after school. There’s nothing worse than the ten minutes after the bell rings. Everyone meets up then. That can be lonely when you’re standing there all by yourself.

The only one I care about is Cissy. Today she almost smiled at me and my heart practically came to a stop. I know I’m totally insane but sometimes I think she still loves me.

Like it matters. She’s too scared to go against her loser dad. Oh, who cares anyway?

Winona was on the phone with Luke when her doorbell rang. “Oh, great. Someone is here,” she said sarcastically. She’d been in the middle of whining about how long the prosecuting attorney was taking to make her decision. He was the only one she could talk to about it so sometimes she went overboard. Big surprise there. The only real surprise was that he kept calling her anyway. Almost every Saturday night in September and October, like clockwork, she sat out on her porch, or in front of her fireplace, and talked to him about their lives. The easy way of their conversations had come rushing back.

“You have to be patient,” Luke said. He’d been saying the same thing to her for weeks. “It’s still October. She’ll call. I know she will.”

“The waiting is killing me,” she said. “I’m actually losing weight for the first time since sixth grade. Maybe I’ll get lucky and finally get pretty while Dallas rots in that cell.”

“You were always pretty, Win.”

The doorbell rang again.

“Yeah, right,” she muttered. “That’s why you fell in love with my sister when I was standing right there. Look, Luke, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, I’m officially worried about you now.”

“That means a lot to me. Truly,” she said, and then: “I’ve got to go. Call me tomorrow night.” Before he could answer, she hung up the phone and headed for the door. “Keep your pants on. I’m coming.” She opened the door and found her sisters standing there. Aurora was dressed as if for a walk across the frozen tundra—jeans, winter boots, a big fake-fur-lined parka. In her gloved hands was a big silver thermos. Beside her, Vivi Ann stood holding coffee cups.

“You’re coming with us. Dress warmly,” Aurora said.

“No, thanks,” Winona said. In truth, she was too anxious lately to behave normally around her sisters.

“She’s confused,” Aurora said, shooting an I-told-you-so look at Vivi Ann. “That’s often the case, lately. I said, you’re coming with us. Get dressed.”

“What’s in the thermos?”

“Irish coffee. Now hurry.”

“Fine. But I’m taking my phone,” Winona said. She hadn’t been away from her phone for more than ten minutes since her meeting with Sara Hamm.

“Who are you? Condoleezza Rice?” Aurora muttered.

Winona left them in her entryway and went upstairs to change her clothes. Five minutes later she came down dressed in old jeans tucked into ice-blue UGG boots, a heavy Irish cable-knit sweater, and her coat. Her purse (with the phone in it) was slung over her shoulder.

“Where’s Vivi Ann?” she asked Aurora when she was coming down the stairs.

“Bathroom.” Aurora waved her over, whispered, “Hurry.” At Winona’s arrival, she said, “Spill it. Now.”

“What?”

“You’ve been avoiding Vivi and me for weeks. I know you. That means you haven’t let it go.”

“It?” Winona said, stalling.

“Don’t make me hurt you.”

Winona took a deep breath. “I found some new evidence. I’m waiting to hear if it will matter.”

“If it does?”

“He could get out.”

“And if it doesn’t work, he stays put.” Aurora crossed her arms. “Thank God you didn’t tell her. She’s hanging on by a thread as it is. But don’t keep me out of the loop, damn it. I want to help.”

Winona hugged her sister. “Thanks.”

Vivi Ann returned just as they drew apart. “Okay,” she said, “let’s go.”

Winona followed them out to Aurora’s car and got into the passenger seat. Now that she was out of the house, it felt good. She couldn’t really remember the last time she’d gone somewhere for fun. “Where are we going?”

Aurora turned into the ranch’s driveway.

“This is our big outing with a thermos of caffeine and booze?”

Aurora pulled up into the driveway and parked. She got a blanket, two small boxes, and a boom box out of the trunk. Then the three of them started walking: past the ghost-and-witch-decorated barn, past the automatic walker draped in faux spiderwebs.

Winona knew immediately where they were going. It was a small rise beyond Renegade’s paddock, a grassy hillock positioned beneath a huge old madrona tree. From there, one could see almost all of the ranch, the flat waters of the Canal, and the distant mountains. A salmon stream ran alongside it, changing course with the seasons and changing strength, but like every aspect of Water’s Edge, its existence remained constant.

Aurora laid a blanket on the grass, and as they’d done so many times as girls, they sat down side by side. The madrona tree, stripped bare of leaves by the autumn cold, created a canopy over their heads; a network of black, spiky branches splayed like reaching hands across a starry lavender sky. Below them, huddled in the shadows, lay the small patch of ground that had once been their mother’s garden. None of them had ever had the courage to mow it down or replant it, and so it had simply grown wild.

“We haven’t come out here in a long time,” Vivi Ann said, pouring the hot spiked coffee into mugs and handing them out.

“We’re sisters,” Aurora said, and there was an unmistakable gravitas to her voice as she spoke. “Sometimes we have to be reminded of that.” She reached over for the two boxes she’d brought along. “These are for you two.”

Winona pulled the small, unwrapped box into her lap. Opening it, she stared down at the gift. It was crumpled, confused-looking, but she knew what it was, and the knowledge caused a tightening in her stomach. Slowly, she lifted the wind chime up from its resting place. It was a collection of stunningly beautiful opalescent shells, strung together with nearly invisible silver line. It made a sweet clattering sound as she held it.

Vivi Ann’s chimes were different, made of tiny, misshapen bits of jewel-toned blown glass. Even in the fading light, the colors shone as if with some inner brilliance.

“They’re beautiful,” Winona said, remembering her mother and that last time the three of them had stood around her bed, holding hands, taking strength from each other. Stay together, Mom had whispered, crying for the only time in all those months. My garden-girls...

“We’re sisters,” Aurora said again. “I just wanted to remind you. No matter what happens, what choices we make”—at this her gaze cut to Winona—“we stick together.”

Winona clanked cups with her sisters and took a drink. Then, reaching into her purse, she pulled out a photograph and showed it to her sisters. In it, her father was laughing and handsome, with his arm slung possessively around Mom.

Aurora and Vivi Ann huddled close, studying this picture as if it were a great archaeological find, which, in a way, it was. Pictures of Mom were few and far between. Winona often thought that Mom had edited herself from their family memories—taking away photos where she looked old or tired or heavy. She couldn’t have known that she had so little time with them.

But it wasn’t Mom that caught their attention in this picture. It was Dad. He looked vibrant and handsome.

Happy.

“I don’t remember him like that at all,” Winona said.

“Me, either,” said Aurora.

“I do,” Vivi Ann said softly. She almost sounded regretful when she said, “See the way he’s looking at her?”

“Why doesn’t he love us that way?” Winona asked the question, but she knew they all were thinking it. Of course, there was no answer.

“Where did you get the picture?” Aurora asked.

“You should have been a prosecutor,” Winona muttered. “You don’t miss a thing.”

“Except my husband’s affair,” Aurora answered, taking a sip. “I actually brought the woman muffins when she was sick.”

Vivi Ann slung an arm around Aurora. “He was a prick.”

“And boring,” Winona added.

“Don’t forget hairless,” Aurora said, finally smiling. She took another sip. “So, where did you get the photo?”

“Luke.”

No one responded right away. Winona understood why. Luke was like a forbidden pool in a fairy tale; it might be beautiful, but there was danger beneath the surface of the water.

Aurora knew to say nothing, to let Vivi Ann answer first.

Winona should have done the same—waited—but the silence unnerved her. “He came to see me after the hearing. He’d read about what was going on and thought I might need a friend.”

“He’s a nice guy,” Vivi Ann finally said, looking at Winona. “Do you still love him?”

Winona didn’t know how to answer that. “Compared to you and Dallas...” She shrugged, unable to find the words.

“It’s not a competitive sport,” Vivi Ann said, touching her arm. “Love just... is.”

“It’s too late anyway. We missed our chance. Or maybe we never had one. I don’t know.”

Vivi Ann’s look was pure sadness. “You don’t know about too late. If there’s even a chance, Win, you take it. For all the pain with Dallas, I thank God I loved him.”

Winona put down her coffee and lay back on the blanket, staring up through the skeletal tree at the Milky Way. “I’m afraid,” she said quietly. She didn’t think she’d even said those words out loud before. She’d always been afraid that simply naming her weakness would compound it, but now she needed her sisters to help her through.

“Fear is the mind-killer,” Vivi Ann said, and even in the darkness, Winona could tell that her sister was smiling.

“Great. I bare my soul and you give me geek-girl sci-fi psychobabble.”

Vivi Ann laughed. “Yeah, but it’s great sci-fi. Legendary. And it’s also true. You can’t go through life afraid.”

“You’re one to talk,” Aurora said.

“Touché,” Vivi Ann answered.

“What would you do if you could go back in time with Richard and get another chance?” Winona asked.

“I’ve thought a lot about that,” Aurora said, drawing her knees up to her chest. “But even when I’m the loneliest, I know I didn’t love Richard enough. I want what Vivi had, and if I don’t get it, I’m cool with being alone. No more compromises for me.”

Winona closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of her youth—the horses walking in the fields, the waves washing on shore, the rushing of the water in the salmon stream. For the first time, she appreciated the constancy of this place, the predictability. In a month or two the orcas would come back to the Canal, and for a few magical weeks, it would be the talk of the town. On the Canal road, cars would stop suddenly, park right in their lane while their drivers rushed out to watch the black and white giants breach and play. Later, when spring came, the frogs would return, ribbiting so loudly at night that people would stumble out of a sound sleep to close their windows.

In a place like this you always knew what to expect, and if you were careful, and you looked closely, you could see your future as clearly as your past. “I’ve never figured out how to stop loving Luke,” Winona said. It took an act of pure courage to say the words, but she was glad she did it.

“Yeah,” Vivi Ann said. “Love is like that. You’re lucky, though. All you have to do is pick up the phone and ask him out. The worst that can happen is he says no.”

“It’s not like you’re worse off,” Aurora agreed.

Winona imagined herself taking the risk, asking him out; she couldn’t help but think about the other time, when she hadn’t been brave enough to confront Vivi Ann with her longings, and how that lie of omission had changed everything between them, made their relationship fragile.

Winona was doing that again, wasn’t she? Although her motives were better, she was still hiding a truth from her sister. “You know I love you, Vivi, right? I would never want to hurt you again.”

“I know that. And believe me, nothing about you and Luke can hurt me.”

Winona sat up. “About Dallas—”

Aurora elbowed her. “Enough about men. This is a sisters’ night.” She poured three more Irish coffees from the thermos and then held out her mug. “To us,” she said, and they drank.

In the long silence that followed, as they sat there, leaned against each other, on this blanket that had once graced their grandmother’s bed, Winona said, “Maybe we should replant Mom’s garden.”

“Yeah,” Aurora and Vivi Ann said at the same time, their voices blending together in the night. “It’s time,” one of them said; Winona wasn’t even sure which one had spoken, but she nodded just the same.

“It’s time.”

I NEVER KNEW LIFE COULD CHANGE SO FAST!!!!

I have to put my pen down for a second. My hand is actually shaking. Okay, here’s what happened. I’m going to write it all down so I NEVER FORGET A SECOND.

Yesterday was a regular, boring old school day and Mom woke me up early. Lucky me. We were in the kitchen, eating breakfast when Aunt Winona walked into our house. She didn’t knock or anything. She just said I need my nephew for the day.

But it’s a school day, my mom said, and the Halloween carnival is in two days. I need his help on a thousand things.

Please Aunt Winona said. I’ll owe you one. Mom did her famous eye roll and said you already owe me a ton, go ahead and take him. He’s skipping all his classes anyway.

Just like that I was free. Aunt Winona looked at me and said go take a shower and put on pants that fit. I don’t want to see your underwear. I started to say no way but she gave me the hand and said Then stay here and go to school.

So I dressed nice.

We got in Aunt Winona’s car and drove away. All the way along the Canal I was asking where we were going and she wouldn’t tell me, but I could tell she wanted to. She was smiling big time.

I was so busy asking her that I didn’t notice when we got off the freeway. And then I saw the sign for the prison.

Are you kidding me? I said. Before I’d been laughing and poking her when I asked, but when I saw the sign it was like my blood froze.

I didn’t want to tell your mom, just in case something went wrong, Aunt Winona said. She gave me a Look. Things can always go wrong at the last minute. That’s one thing I’ve learned.

How? was all I could say.

I had the lab run more DNA tests and we found out who was really there that night at Cat’s house.

It wasn’t your dad, she said. So the prosecuting attorney joined in my motion to dismiss.

By tomorrow, she said, the newspapers will have the story, so I’m taking you to see him now before cameras will follow you around.

But what about mom? I asked.

Don’t worry about her, Aunt Winona said. Aurora is going to keep her busy all day and keep the ranch gate shut and unplug the phone. I don’t want your mom to know about this until he’s out. Just in case. She can’t take another disappointment.

We drove up to the prison and it looked like I remembered, all gray and ugly. At the parking lot, we stopped and got out. In the guard tower, a guy with a gun walked back and forth.

I forgot my student i.d. I said suddenly. Will they let me see him? Before Aunt Winona could answer, a buzzer sounded and the big black gates started to swing open.

And I could see him. My dad. He was walking out of prison with a huge guard beside him; he was wearing black Levi’s that were too big and a wrinkled black shirt. I couldn’t tell how long his hair was cuz it was in a ponytail.

I walked toward him, just staring at the face that was so much like mine.

Noah, he said, and I realized I’d never heard my dad’s voice before.

You’re really here, he said, and he was the one of us who cried first. He said something I didn’t understand but the sound of it was so familiar. And I knew: it was what he used to say to me when I was a baby, the thing my mother didn’t know. It was just ours, me and my dad’s.

It means Ride Like the Wind in my mother’s language he said. God, he said next. I left a little boy in his mom’s arms and now here you are, a man.

Then he pulled me into his arms and said I missed you little man.