I give her a knowing smile. “I was so worried about her before we went under. It was her first time diving in the open water.” Mads’s eyes water. “I remember her stepping off the boat, splashing into the water, and taking my hand. She was fearless.”
Tears stream down Mads’s cheeks. “Youreallyremember?”
I nod. “And I can’t wait until we do it again.”
We hug, and Natalie runs in between and throws her arms around us. “Family hug!”
CHAPTER 33
The Widow
Unpacking the last candle, I toss all the loose cardboard and plastic from my shopping trip into the recycle bin and sit down with a hot cup of tea. The flower arrangements arrived a few minutes ago, and the package I ordered from the boutique got here last night. I’ve already tried on the nightie, and it fits perfectly.
I’d forgotten how much fun getting ready for little celebrations can be—especially the romantic kind.
I glance at the clock. 4:40 p.m.
I pick up my cell phone. After a few rings, Margaret answers.
“They’re in the cavern now. Everything’s on track.” She promises to update me as they progress.
Relieved, at least for now, I decide to do some research before I get back to the honeymoon plans. I grab my laptop from my desk and sink into the couch.
Big, Mean Man. I type it into the search bar and laugh.
Wow. There are actually quite a lot of pages with results. All of them hilarious, but none helpful, of course. If only it could be that easy.
Dr. Walter Stanley. Enter.
More promising.
I scroll through the long list of photo search results. There are multiple pictures of more than a dozen people of all colors, sizes, and ages. Moving through them one by one, I’m discouraged by the time I reach page eight.
I can’t find him.
I typequantum physicsinto the search bar and press enter.
The screen blinks, and there he is. The Walter I’m looking for.
Several academic online magazine articles appear, and I scan them. They’re mostly filled with boring science stuff. But when I get to one with a black-and-white photo, I stop and freeze.
Oh my God.
Reflexively, I clutch my chest and try to calm myself down.
The photo was taken at a cross-disciplinary geophysical science conference, and Walter stands among a panel of other academics.
It’s him—theBig, Mean Man—and he’s standing beside Dr. Phineas Clark and…
Nathan.
What in the world is going on?
The Big, Mean Man isn’t wearing the glasses or hat, but it’s definitely him. Clean-cut, he looks like an average science professor. He’s the only one not even trying to smile.
I scan the photo caption and article. There’s no reference to any of their names, but I know who they are.
JASONs. All of them.
