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Bill, you ride with him. Jessica and I will take hers."He sat me in the passenger side seat, and rummaged through my purse for my keys. He had to adjust the seat before he was able to get in, and his friends looked over at him in impatience. He waved his hands at them, and they went off.He began to drive, and I stared at him."Where're you taking me? What are you going to do to me?" Shut up!" I should just jump out of the fucking car right now. Don't think I won't do it! I'd much rather risk getting all broken up than doing whatever the hell you want me to." Oh yeah? I don't think so."I moved my hand to the door release, but before I could open it, I felt a searing pain go through my head and then all was dark.I woke up with the worse headache I'd ever had. I groaned and tried to move to my side, but couldn't. I became more alert, though, the pounding hadn't stopped. My eyes opened wide, to look down at my wrists that were bound to the bed I was on. I fought, though, there was no. I know of hidden legends that made no rational sense. But wecouldn't ignore that fact of what had happened. The first few days wereso strange, watching her so upset, in my body, feeling so lost, sohelpless. I did make an effort to find out more. Together we met with villagers,seeking information, some answer, some way to return things to the waythey were. It was the old woman who convinced me that it had happened -and that it was permanent.We eventually returned home and struggled to adjust somehow to ourlives. It wasn't easy. It was a huge strain on both us. She was forcedto go to my work, and I to hers. She was the one to first call herparents and her sister. But when they asked to speak to me she onlybroke down and cried as she handed me the phone. It was a duplicitousgame that we were forced to play. She knew her life, I knew mine,except no one else could possibly have believed anything of what hadhappened.I think we both had our days when we'd try to buoy the spirits of.
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While they were working, though, they were also buzzing about the mystery of the corpse in the wall. The word had gone out that the lab tests on the body were, at last, finished and the results had gone to the State police. An identification surely was about to be made. Then on a Friday afternoon, the animosity that had been seething between Jake and Hugh came to a head. Ally was on the second floor of the central wing, doing a video interview with Tom Black on the detailed plasterwork being applied to the ceiling of one of the front bedrooms, a video that would run on the Post’s Web site, when she heard the surge of crowd noise below and in front of the building such as one would hear at a boxing match. She—and Tom and his video photographer, as well—hurried to a window on the front and looked down into the forecourt. Jake and Hugh were rolling around on the ground and throwing punches, some of which were connecting with an alarming thud. They were fighting inside a ring of workman.

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