The girl stared at them. “Nobody can do anything. He’s dead.”

“I know. I was the one who found him on the beach, yesterday,” said Maggie, softly. “I’m so sorry.”

Behind the girl she saw a woman, perhaps in her mid-forties, looking at them from a room away. Maggie shifted her body slightly so that the woman could see her hands. “We came to say we’re sorry for your loss,” she signed.

Gussie waved at the woman, who then came forward. She and Gussie looked at each other for a moment. Then Gussie nodded and reached up her arms. Gussie rocked her for a moment as though she was a child, while Maggie and the younger woman watched.

Then the two women broke apart. “Maggie, I’d like you to meet my friend, Cordelia West,” Gussie, said, gesturing toward the woman she’d hugged. “Cordelia, this is my dear friend, Maggie Summer, who’s visiting.”

Cordelia smiled at Maggie and signed, “I’m pleased to meet you. You sign ASL.”

“A little,” Maggie signed, and smiled. “I’m Maggie. I teach; some of my students use ASL.”

Cordelia nodded, gesturing that Gussie and Maggie should come inside.

She indicated a chair in the small living room where Maggie could sit, and then at the box the younger woman was still holding, and the back of the house. The younger woman nodded her head and left, presumably to take the cupcakes to the kitchen.

“We’re so sorry about your cousin Dan’s death,” said Gussie. “Maggie, tell Cordelia.”

“Gussie wants me to say we’re very sorry about your cousin’s death,” signed Maggie.

“I thank you both,” signed Cordelia. “It’s a sad time.”

Maggie paused a moment. “I should tell you. I was the person who found your cousin’s body on the beach yesterday.”

Cordelia winced. “Thank you for calling the police. Chief Irons brought me a note last night to tell me. We’d been very worried. He’d been missing for two, almost three, days.”

“We?” Maggie asked.

“Diana.” Cordelia indicated the kitchen. “Dan’s daughter.”

Gussie looked from one of them to the other. “What’s she saying, Maggie?”

“She says the young woman who opened the door is Diana, Dan’s daughter.”

“I didn’t know he had a daughter,” said Gussie. “Ask Cordelia if she’s been here long.”

“Only about a week,” signed Cordelia. “She’s very confused and upset. If you could help her in some way?”

The young lady in question returned, carrying a large tray of cookies, brownies, and the cupcakes Jim had bought at the bakery that morning. Clearly neighbors had started early bringing funeral food. She put the tray on the coffee table. “Would anyone like coffee or tea?”

“No, thank you,” said Gussie. “But thank you for asking. Why don’t you sit and join us? Let me introduce myself officially. I’m Gussie White. I’m moving into a house a little ways down the beach. And this is Maggie Summer, my friend from New Jersey. Cordelia told us you’re Dan’s daughter.”

“Except he wasn’t Dan then!” said Diana. Her tears started to flow. “None of this is right. None of it!”

Gussie and Maggie exchanged looks.

“What do you mean?” Gussie said.

“It’s all been so hard! Cordelia’s trying to be kind, but she doesn’t understand anything I say. I thought Dad was dead, and then I found him again. Alive! And then a few days later he disappears, and now the police say he’s dead, again, and someone killed him! And he wasn’t even using his real name, and no one will tell me anything!”

“Diana, I don’t know what’s happening. I’m not even from Wins­low. I’m guessing you’re from Colorado, right?” Maggie spoke ­directly to Diana. She felt as though she was back on campus. So many times she’d sat with young people who were close to hysterical about minor issues. Diana’s problems were clearly larger ones.

Diana looked confused. “How did you know I was from Colorado?”

“I saw your car outside. The license plates.”

“Oh, yeah. That. Not a big secret, I guess. Yeah, I’m from Colorado Springs. Grew up there, and was going to college there, until Dad was killed in a car accident. At least I thought he was killed.”

“What made you look for him here?” asked Gussie.

“I wasn’t looking for him. I was taking a vacation. I’d decided to sell our house, to help with tuition and all the bills after Dad died. Or after I thought he’d died. So I was cleaning. I found old pictures of Mom and Dad when they were first married. They lived here then. They looked so young! Happy. Dad was so skinny. And his hair was so long!” She smiled a little. “Not the way I remembered him. When he’d died, when I thought he’d died, in Colorado, he was a lot heavier. He had a pot belly, and he’d lost most of his hair. Anyway, I decided to get away. Travel. Dad always said I had no family left, but they’d come from Cape Cod and Martha’s Vineyard. I decided to visit where it all started, where my family began. So I came here.”

“And?” said Maggie.

“I found Winslow, and I even found the house where we used to live when I was a baby. This house. I got up my courage and decided to ask the current owner if I could look inside. And Dad answered the door.” Diana looked from Gussie to Maggie and back. “It freaked me out. For a few minutes I thought it was someone else; someone who looked like him. He’d lost the pot belly, but he’d shaved the hair on his head and grown a beard. He really looked different. Then I thought I was seeing a ghost. Maybe I was going crazy. Or I was in a time warp; I’d gone back in time to when Dad lived here.” Diana shook her head. “It’s hard to explain. My head was exploding with crazy ideas. I guess he was as surprised to see me as I was to see him.”

“Did he explain why he was here? Why he hadn’t told you he was still alive?”

“At first he was really upset I was here. Then he told me he wasn’t Roger Hopkins anymore. He was Dan Jeffrey. And he introduced me to Cordelia. He told me I could stay a few days, but that was all. Then I had to leave, and forget I’d seen him. I shouldn’t tell anyone who I was, or who he was. I needed to go back to Colorado.”

“He didn’t explain why you couldn’t tell anyone, or why he was using another name?”

Diana shook her head. “He said it was complicated, and he didn’t want me to get involved. That it would be better if I didn’t know. That I should go on living my life the way I had been.” The tears started flowing again. Cordelia reached out for a box of Kleenex on a side table and handed Diana some tissues. “I didn’t know how I could do that! I was furious. Did he have any idea of what he’d put me through? I kept asking him to trust me! To tell me what was going on! Then Monday he didn’t come home. I was so worried. I thought he’d run off; that he’d disappeared again. That he didn’t want to see me. I even called the police and told them he was missing. Mrs. Irons, the chief’s wife, stopped in. But no one else seemed to care. And now he’s dead, so none of that matters, does it? He really isn’t coming home again. Ever! This time he really is dead!” Diana’s tears were flowing.

Gussie and Maggie looked at each other.

“Cordelia doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t understand how I feel. She’s not used to having me here. I can’t talk to her; I just write her notes, and we point. And now the police are going to start asking me questions. I just know they are. That’s what happened in Colorado. They’ve already searched his room.” Diana looked up at them. “How can he put me through this again? It just isn’t fair! I hate him! You’re the first people who’ve come today who haven’t just handed food in at the door and left. We need friends right now, and I don’t know what to do!”

“Diana, I don’t know what your father was here for, or why he was using another name, but I’m sure you’re right. The police are going to want to talk to you again. It might help if you had a lawyer with you. My fiancé is a good lawyer,” said Gussie. “He’s very easy to talk with. If you’d like, I’ll call him right now, and get him to come down here.”