Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Shirlee McCoy for her contribution to THE SECRETS OF STONELEY miniseries.

      To Seth, whose honesty inspires me and whose gifts

       never cease to amaze me.

      To Beth Sharo. If we weren’t sisters, we undoubtedly would have been friends. What a blessing to be both!

      And to Rodney. Just because.

      Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the Lord has been good to you. For You, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling, that I may walk before the Lord in the land of the living.

      —Psalms 116:7–9

      But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

       Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,

       Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

       When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st,

       So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

       So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

      —William Shakespeare, “Sonnet 18,” lines 9–14

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      CHAPTER NINETEEN

      CHAPTER TWENTY

      CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

      CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

      CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

      CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

      CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

      QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

      ONE

      She was going to have fun if it killed her. And, judging by the way Portia Blanchard’s feet were slipping out from under her, it just might.

      “Come on, Portia. You can do better than that.” Her older sister Cordelia laughed the words as she sped by Portia, her skates spraying chips of ice as she passed.

      “Your skirt is too long and too full. That’s why you’re having trouble. Let’s go back to the house. You can change clothes.” Miranda, the oldest of Portia’s five sisters, took her arm, urging her toward the edge of the pond.

      “Changing won’t transform me into a world-class skater, Miranda.” Portia pulled away, her clumsy efforts almost landing her on the ice. She’d never been graceful on skates, but she’d always loved trying. Loved the yearly twilight skate she shared with her five sisters, loved the cold crisp air, the feeling that no matter what the future held, they had each other. “Besides, I don’t want to miss sunset.”

      “We’ve still got twenty minutes until sunset. That’s plenty of time to get to the house and back.” Miranda was nothing if not determined.

      “Twelve minutes. Give or take a few seconds,” Bianca, second-born and usually the peacemaker of the family, cut in. “She’s an adult, Miranda, not a kid. She can wear what she wants, so stop nagging her.”

      “I was not nagging. I was just pointing out that pants might be more appropriate.”

      “Appropriate? Since when has Portia been appropriate?” Nerissa skated toward them, a smile lighting a face so like Portia’s even their father had difficulty telling them apart.

      “Since never.” Juliet joined them. The baby of the family, she had a restless energy that was never quite contained, though tonight she seemed subdued, her green eyes lacking their normal sparkle.

      They all seemed subdued and Portia knew she was partially to blame, her heartache adding to the discordant note of this year’s reunion. Maybe she should have stayed in New York. The family had enough to worry about without adding her troubles to the mix.

      “No, you shouldn’t have stayed in New York.” Rissa leaned in close, sensing her thoughts and whispering the reassurance