There was also a four-drawer filing cabinet and a desk. The cabinet was open, the desk was locked. "Do you have the key?" I asked Billings."It's one o... these two. The other is for the cabinet."The top left drawer contained garbage: packs of Kleenex, parts of rolls of lozenges and Tums, a vast number of pink message pad sheets with phone numbers, dates, jottings and nothing to link them to reality. The next drawer seemed to be full of used Kleenex. I dumped it into the wastebasket to discover. She remembered what Ned Stanton had told her right at the very beginning: that, in his opinion, love—true love—never died out, that you never stopped caring about someone whom you had really loved. Today, almost two years after David, Danielle had to agree. The topic had come up again, recently, as she talked with the Stantons about the dance. At the time she had cursed the whole idea: Why can't I get over him, why does it still hurt to see him; things like that. And Katrina (it had been her. More

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