Charlotte remembered her childhood at the lake. Skating on the bumpy, uneven ice usually left her battered and bruised, and her skates needed sharpening quite often. She would watch the boys playing hockey on one end of the lake while everyone else skated in groups, chatting and gossiping.

Today, though, she was taking a different track. Thirty-five years later, the ice was empty of skaters and hockey players. A light fog covered the ice on the opposite edge of the lake. She had no skates on but could move well enough. It had to be done.

Charlotte sighed and began to make her way across.