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struggled to deal with the question. “New Orleans.”

      “What did your parents do?”

      “My dad was an oil company executive. My mom sort of did the country-club thing. They live in Santa Barbara, California, now.”

      “Were you an only child?”

      “Yes,” he answered, thinking that his mother had told him she’d had a lot of trouble getting pregnant. She’d been torn between wanting another child and not wanting to go through the rigors of a fertility clinic again. Although that had been her decision, she’d made it clear that he hadn’t been the loving son she’d wanted. But he didn’t tell the women he dated any of that.

      “Did you grow up down there?”

      “Yes.”

      Elizabeth was staring off into space.

      “What?” he asked.

      “New Orleans.”

      “What about it?”

      “I remember stuff about the city. I mean I can picture...Jackson Square,” she said.

      “You’ve probably seen pictures.”

      “I think I’ve been there. And the French Market.”

      “Okay.”

      He waited for her to give him more information, but she only shook her head. “Maybe I’m wrong.”

      “We’ll assume you’re right.”

      “If it’s true, it gives us something in common.”

      He nodded, wondering if it was important, and why it might be.

      “Do you know how to cook pain perdu?” he asked.

      “French toast?”

      “Yeah.”

      “That’s easy.”

      “What about gumbo?”

      “I have a general idea of what’s in it, but I’d have to look up a recipe if I wanted to make some.”

      “Most people would, I think.” He looked at Elizabeth. “Where are you from?”

      The answer to the question lurked below the surface of her mind. “Nice try,” she murmured.

      “I thought I’d give it a shot.”

      They were all silent for several moments while they ate.

      “Well, this chili is delicious,” Mrs. Kramer said, as she spooned up more of the beans and beef mixture.

      “Thank you,” Elizabeth answered.

      Again they resumed eating, and Mrs. Kramer broke the silence once more as they finished the meal. “How did you get so far north?” she asked Matt.

      “I went to medical school at Hopkins. After...” He stopped and glanced at Elizabeth. “After Africa, I decided Baltimore was as good a place as any to practice medicine.”

      “You intend to settle down here?” Mrs. Kramer asked.

      He involuntarily glanced at Elizabeth again, thinking that everything they said had a double meaning or a subcontext that only the two of them could really follow.

      “I...don’t know.” He cleared his throat, changing the subject abruptly as he looked at Elizabeth. “Do you want to try hypnosis?”

      “What?”

      “With many people, it can help recover memories.”

      “You mean now?”

      “After we finish eating.”

      “You know how to do it?”

      “I had a class,” he said. “We could try it.”

      Elizabeth gave that some consideration. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

      “Just sit in a chair and relax.”

      “I can clean up,” Polly said.

      “You shouldn’t have to,” Elizabeth protested. “You already have a houseguest.”

      “You cooked us a delicious meal. I’ll do the cleaning. That’s only fair.”

      Matt and Elizabeth got up, carefully avoiding touching each other. They went into the living room where she glanced around, then settled into an overstuffed chair, looking apprehensive.

      “What should I do?”

      “Like I said, get comfortable.”

      “That’s difficult.”

      For a whole lot of reasons, some of them having to do with her situation and some with him, he knew.

      He sat down on the sofa, trying to relax and not having perfect success.

      “Lean back. Look up at the line where the wall meets the ceiling.”

      “Why?”

      “It puts your eyes at the right level.”

      She did as he said, and he kept speaking to her in a soothing voice. “Relax now. Relax now. Relax now.”

      He saw some of the tension drain out of her features.

      “How do you feel?”

      “Good.”

      “There’s nothing to worry about. We’re just going to see if we can bring back more of your past.”

      “Yes,” she murmured.

      “And when I tell you to wake up, you will. Do you understand?”

      “Yes.”

      “We can start with a little mental vacation. Let’s go somewhere where you’d like to be.”

      She thought about that. “I’m not sure.”

      “Most people like the beach. Does that work for you?”

      She waited a beat before answering, “Yes.”

      “We’re at the beach. You’re on a chaise, lying in the sun. It feels good on your face and body. The waves are rolling up across the sand.”

      “Um.”

      “Let’s go a little deeper into relaxation. You go back to the resort where you’re staying. You go inside, and there’s a flight of steps. You go down, one step at a time.”

      “Okay.”

      “Every step takes you deeper into relaxation.” He could see from her face that it was working.

      “What’s at the bottom of the stairs?” he asked.

      Her body jerked.

      “What?”

      “Women. They’re frightened.”

      “Why?”

      “They’re a long way from home.” Her body jerked again. “I don’t want to be there.”

      “Okay.”

      Her eyes blinked open, focusing on him.

      She looked so lost and alone that every instinct urged him to cross the room and take her in his arms again, but he knew that wasn’t such a great idea, given what happened every time they touched.

      “Yes,” she murmured.

      “You know what I’m thinking?”

      “It’s all over your face.”

      “Sorry I’m so transparent.”

      “Not to most people, I think.”

      “I want to ask about that memory.”

      She

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