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She leveled an accusing stare. “Yes,” I admitted, “I’ve heard him, too.” “And it doesn’t bother you?” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “I think,” I said carefully, “that right now, Noah needs to believe that it’s possible.” “But why?” “Because he loves her. He misses her.” At my words, I saw her jaw quiver. “I do, too,” she said. Even as she said the words, we both knew it wasn’t the same.?Despite our weariness, neither of us could face the prospect of going straight home after the ordeal at the hospital. When Jane declared suddenly that she was “starving,” we decided to stop at the Chelsea for a late dinner.?Even before we entered, I could hear the sounds of John Peterson at the piano inside. Back in town for a few weeks, he played each weekend; on weekdays, however, John sometimes showed up unexpectedly. Tonight was such a night, the tables surrounding the piano crowded, the bar packed with people.?We were seated upstairs, away from the music and the crowd, where only a few other tables were occupied. Jane surprised me by ordering a second glass of wine with her entr閑, and it seemed to ease some of the tension of the past several hours. “What did Daddy say to you when you two were alone?” Jane asked, carefully picking a bone out of her fish.