Prologue

 

PROLOGUE

 

            There was never a summer that they'd spent apart. Ever since their early years of grade school and up until their final year of high school, the three seemingly ordinary friends were inseparable. Together for nearly every day of the three month season always made the other seasons pale in comparison. Though it wasn't for the steadily pleasant weather or long days on the beach. It was more the possibility that anything could happen – and it usually did.

            Now, however, things were quite different. They were no longer kids and their summers were no longer filled with carefree days of togetherness. Yes, things were very different indeed.

 

            Jillian Marsh smiled broadly at the crowd in front of her and bowed gracefully before quickly exiting the stage.

            "You were magnificent!" exclaimed her boyfriend of two years and manager of five, Gerard Bradshaw.

            She smiled, falling into his embrace. "I was, wasn't I?"

            He laughed. "Of course. Now, go get dressed – we have reservations tonight."

            She raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows. "Oh yeah?"

            He grinned, smacking her butt. "Get outta here."

            She made her way to her dressing room, accepting the random praises as she went, from fellow thespians as well as crewman. When she finally reached the door with the familiar yellow star on it, she went inside and leaned against the closed door, exhaling a long sigh.

            She was almost 30 years old and had been acting on Broadway for the past year and a half. Everyone loved her; the critics claimed that it was only a matter of time before Hollywood requested her for the silver screen and she was actually building a fan base. She was the happiest she'd ever been in her life . . . ever since her summers as a child.

            She sighed again, stripped down to her underwear and sat at the vanity to scrub off the makeup caked onto her face. Beneath it laid clear, porcelain skin, blue eyes, and a smile which shows off perfectly straight, pearly white teeth.

            Yanking off her costume wig, Jillian shook loose her long auburn curls. She was undoubtedly very pretty and to the naked eye could easily pass for a woman in her early twenties. She smiled at her reflection, reveling in the fact that she was really here, on Broadway, and starring in her own production.

            Suddenly, the quiet tinkling of her cell phone sounded and she opened it without looking at the caller I.D.

            "Hello?" she said, fervently scratching her scalp.

            "It's me," replied an all too familiar voice. "You need to come home, Jill. It's – she's back."

            Her knuckles turned white, gripping the phone tighter. "Why?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, why now?"

            "I don't know, Jill. I'll pick you up from the airport, okay?"

            She nodded at her reflection, as if to convince herself to go. "I'll call you when I get there."

 

            Oliver Chase replaced the receiver and poured a glass of scotch, downing it in one gulp. Up until now, his life had been perfectly in order. He'd just opened up his own pediatric practice in his hometown of Chester, Maryland, making his surgeon father extraordinarily proud, and it wasn't long ago that he'd proposed to his med school girlfriend of nearly five years. But now this – one little phone call he'd received had changed everything. Or, it soon would.

            He stood up and walked around his home office, admiring the framed diplomas and photographs that hung on the walls. His cornflower blue eyes settled on one that sat atop the bookshelf, and his heart ached.

            It was taSophie during the summer before his senior year in high school, with his closest childhood friends. Jillian looked happier than ever, her cheeks flushed from lying on the beach all day, and he was smiling mischievously, as if he knew a big secret that no one else did.

            Of course I look like that, he thought, Sophie's on my other arm.

            He smiled sadly at the girl who'd shared countless summers with him and Jillian. She was beautiful, but an old photograph could never capture her true beauty. Light freckles covered her bare, sun kissed shoulders, and long golden blonde hair surrounded her heart shaped face, and fell over her emerald green eyes in soft wisps. She was an angel; she'd always been his angel; until she left. And now, for reasons beyond him, she was back. Sophie was back in his life, and more mysterious than ever.

            He poured another scotch and caught sight of himself in the mirror that hung by the bar. He looked tired, his blue eyes heavily-lidded despite his efforts to stay alert. But far too much had happened within the last 24 hours to allow him much control over his actions.

            He ran a hand through his already tousled light brown hair, glancing at the clock. It had been exactly two hours since Sophie had walked back into his life. Well, he hadn't been able to see her yet; he hadn't yet mustered up the courage to. Funny though, how he hadn't once thought of his fiancé since Sophie had returned. His fiancé, who had never left him and always supported him and stood by his side. His fiancé, who was at the moment sleeping in their bed. His fiancé, who was so very unlike his Sophie. No, he hadn't once thought of her since Sophie had arrived in town.

            She simply had that effect on him – she always had.