Only once during the entire time she was in New York did she speak to Danny, and then the conversation was stilted and pointless. At the end of two months, she and Rob finally wrapped up the project. She stayed around until the loose ends were tied up, until Rothman had approved the material and she’d bidden him and his cronies farewell. And then she packed the lone suitcase she’d brought with her to New York, got on a plane, and went home to find out if she was still married. At home, things weren’t any better. Night after night, she lay alone in their king-size bed while Danny sat at the piano for hours, abusing the keyboard with dark, tormented music, pounding out Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, Mozart, until she wanted to scream. He’d long since given up on sleeping, for every time he tried, the nightmares woke him, and he refused her comfort, instead lying stiff and unreachable beside her. Nothing Casey could say would convince him that he wasn’t responsible for Katie’s death, and his grief, compounded by guilt, was agonizing to watch.
