Greenwich Country Day School Greenwich, Connecticut Twenty years ago "Just take it, Jane." Jane Whitcomb grabbed the backpack. "You're still coming, right?" "I told you this morning. Yes." "Okay." Jane watched her friend head down the sidewalk until a horn beeped. Straightening her jacket, she squared her shoulders and turned toward a Mercedes-Benz. Her mother was staring out of the driver's-side window, her eyebrows clenched. Jane hustled across the street, the rogue backpack with the contraband making too much noise, as far as she was concerned. She hopped in the backseat and stashed the thing at her feet. The car started rolling before she got the door shut. "Your father is coming home this evening." "What?" Jane pushed her glasses up on her nose. "When?" "Tonight. So I'm afraid the¡ª" "No! You promised!" Her mother looked over her shoulder. "I beg your pardon, young lady." Jane teared up. "You promised me for my thirteenth birthday. Katie and Lucy are supposed to¡ª" "I've already called their mothers." Jane fell back against the seat. Her mother's eyes lifted to the rearview mirror. "Take that expression off your face, thank you. Do you think you're more important than your father? Do you?" "Of course not. He's god." The Mercedes swerved to the shoulder with a lurch and the brakes squealed. Her mother twisted around, lifted her hand, and held the pose, her arm trembling.