Roberta scanned the smooth white stretch of sand. Some

thirty people were lounging on blankets or towels, enjoying

the clear, hot August sunshine. Compared to most beaches

at this time of year, the small community beach on Madi-

son s south shore was luxuriously uncrowded. But to Rob-

erta it seemed jam-packed. The last time she d been here,

she d had the entire beach to herself.

That August afternoon, five years ago to the day, had

been unseasonably chilly. The fog blanketing the shoreline

had been so dense and dank that, standing in the smooth

sand not more than two feet from the water s edge, Rob-

erta had barely been able to see the pulsing gray waves of

Long Island Sound. Today the water was more green than gray, its gentle surf surging playfully rather than omi- nously, and the sky was a crisp blue, adorned with a few high, feathery tufts of white.

"Mommy, is this where I was born?" Leah asked.

Roberta gazed down at the slim but sturdy little girl be- side her. Even after five years, Roberta still felt a slight thrill at the sight of her energetic daughter, with her thick dark curls and her round, eager eyes. It seemed miraculous to