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accident become an open door to the press. But she called Helen and asked her to come.
    Helen Forbes Kensington came in looking like she was the star of her own movie.
    “You look fantastic,” Helen said, grabbing Millie’s hand. “For someone who almost bought the farm.”
    Helen’s tone and temperament were cheering. “Maybe a farm wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” Millie said.
    “The reports I keep hearing say you’ll be good as new. Are they right?”
    “So Dr. Cross says.”
    “We need you, girl.”
    “We?”
    “All of us. The United States of America. We need you to write those opinions.”
    Millie was about to say something in assent but she stopped. Something shifted in her mind. It was subtle and almost unidentifiable.
    “Are you okay, girl?” Helen was leaning over.
    “What? Sorry,” Millie said. “I guess I had a moment.”
    “You looked like it. Pain?”
    “No, no. I’m all right.”
    “You sure?”
    Millie looked at her friend. Should she tell her about the vision? In all the years they’d known each other, Helen had looked upon Millie as a sort of Rock of Gibraltar. In fact she had once called her that, and for several months thereafter even nicknamed her “Rocky.” And Millie had liked it. She liked it a lot. If that was to be her main reputation in the Court — to be a rock-solid justice who did not break under pressure — she would be pleased.
    Now a fissure, however slight, seemed to be developing. How serious a break it would turn out to be, Millie did not know. But she did not want it to alarm anyone, especially her close allies. No, she would deal with it first, figure it out, like she always did. Think it through and get rid of it. Then she would be able to talk about it.
    “I’m sure,” Millie said.
    “Good,” Helen said. “Because I’ve got to tell you something. Big.”
    Millie tensed. Her ribs fought her. “Ow.”
    “Sorry,” Helen said. “Relax. It’s about your boyfriend, Senator Levering.”
    “Helen, please.”
    “I know. That gadfly of his, Anne something-or-other, tracked me down.”
    “Tracked you?”
    “Asked me all sorts of roundabout questions. What I figured out is she wanted to know if I knew about you and the senator. I played dumb. I told her I didn’t know anything about anything. I don’t know if she believed me or not. Frankly, I don’t care. But I’m certainly not going to spill any beans.”
    “I’ve issued an official statement that I was with a friend, and my private life is to remain private.”
    “Yeah. But these things can take on lives of their own. Like those awful Survivor shows . Well, you’re a survivor, and you’re going to stay that way. But I got from this Anne babe that the press might get all over this story if we don’t watch it. I think it might be a good idea for you to get out of town awhile.”
    “What?”
    “Lay low. You need to get confirmed as CJ — and you need to recuperate.” A little light flickered in Helen’s eyes. “Hey, why don’t you go out to California?”
    “Back home?”
    “Your mom’s still got a house, right?”
    Millie nodded. “I don’t know, Helen. Santa Lucia? It’s the other side of the world.”
    “But that’s the point, kiddo. It’s quiet. And you’ll have the whole summer.”
    Maybe Helen was right. Millie could get away from this unwanted attention and see her mother at the same time. She’d have to endure some religious talk, but that was a small price.
    And there was something else about it. The desert community that she’d grown up in had a certain simplicity. Maybe that’s what she needed to forget all that had happened the last couple of weeks. Maybe it would help that troubling vision to fade.
    “I’ll think about it,” Millie said. “But remember, it’s California we’re talking about.”
    “What do you mean?”
    Millie smiled. “A lot of weird stuff happens in California.”

CHAPTER THREE
     
     

     
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    Charlene Moore took a sip of her