The next days were a total nightmare. She had to tell them. Lizzie was devastated. Ted hid in the garage after he heard the news. Katie cried inconsolably. And at first Annie had no idea what to do. She went to New London to speak to the police. The wreckage of Bill’s plane was charred beyond recognition. There were no bodies, they had been blown to bits.

Somehow she managed to make the “arrangements.” She held a dignified funeral for them, and half of Greenwich came. Bill’s publishing associates came out from New York to pay their respects. And Annie had called her office and explained that she needed to take a week or two off and couldn’t make the presentation.

She moved into Bill and Jane’s house and went back to the city to get her things. The new apartment she loved was history. It had only one bedroom, and she didn’t want to uproot the children so soon, so she’d have to commute to the city. Magdalena agreed to move in. And Annie had to adjust to the idea that suddenly she was a twenty-six-year-old woman with three children. Jane and Bill had talked to her about it, that if anything happened to them, she would have to step in for them. Bill had no close relatives, and Annie and Jane’s own parents were dead. There was no one to take care of them now except Annie, and all four of them had to make the best of it. There was no other choice. And Annie’s vow to Jane the night before the funeral was to devote her life to their children and do the best she could. She had no idea how to be a mom, all she had ever been was a fun aunt, and now she would have to learn. She couldn’t even imagine stepping into their shoes, and she knew she was a poor substitute for parents like Bill and Jane, but she was all they had.