She stood her ground and slowly took in the surroundings. Although neat and organized, she could feel that Laura's office had been groped by other people. The police had taken her computer and many of her students' files. The desk drawers were closed, but she knew they had been examined thoroughly. She felt the violation of other people having been here first, and it took away some of Laura's presence. This made her feel sad, and for a moment she was overcome with the loss.

She noticed that on the shelves Laura had pictures of the girls in a frame with three openings. They looked to be recent. There was also a family picture in a pretty silver frame, a white pottery vase with a painted southwestern landscape, a box decorated with abalone shells, and several reference books.

She sat down at Laura's desk, and scooted forward. She placed her hands on the top, palms down, as if she were trying to get a message from her sister. The top had been cleaned off. The police had taken Laura's blotter, along with any papers that may have been there. After a few minutes, Grace slowly opened the desk drawers one by one. Besides the usual pens, pencils, and paperclips, they seemed to have been cleaned out. Then she came to the middle drawer on the side of Laura's desk. There she found a single 8 x 11 piece of copy paper, folded in half. She picked it up to have a better look, and saw it was a black and white print which Laura probably had enlarged on her office copier. Across the bottom Laura had written, 'Mom at her favorite beach'. Grace sat it on top of the desk, as she leaned back feeling stunned. She tried to take in what she saw but the flood of emotions and memories pushed against her too violently. She continued to stare at the picture while waves of sentiment washed over her. The picture was taken sometime in the last year before her mom died. She was standing on a beach with the ocean behind her, tanned and smiling. Grace wanted to reach out and touch her. She felt the toll of her bereavement stab at her while tears involuntarily fell from her eyes. After a while, she was able to push herself to the surface of her grief. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. As she looked at the picture, without the static of her emotions erupting in her head, she began to notice details. Her mother was so young. Kate appeared happy, and it was obvious she was in her element. She loved the ocean and visited it almost every day, often taking Laura and Grace with her.

Their father worked long hours as a district manager for a large grocery chain in the Santa Barbara area. He wasn't a constant part of their vagabond beach lifestyle, unless he was on vacation.

Grace sucked in her breath as she felt a prickle of alarm run through her. Could this be why Laura had enlarged the picture? Around her mother's neck was a beautiful necklace on a short rope chain. A striking triangular piece of sea glass, reshaped and softened by the rhythm of the ocean's waves, laid against her tan skin. It was about an inch and a half long and an inch wide at its base, Grace remembered the transparent glass was a shade of blue that looked as if the ocean had bled its own color into it. It was a mixture of sky blue, aqua, and marine that artists strive to create on perfect summer days. A gold charm in the shape of a starfish, shared the loop that the sea glass hung from. It sparkled as the sun reached out and caught it in its rays.

She could almost feel the smooth glass, warm in her small hands. As a child she sat on her mother's lap, facing her while holding the blue triangle and gold charm in her grasp.

The necklace had been a gift from their father to their mother on what turned out to be their last anniversary. Grace remembered he told her mom that now she'd always have a piece of the ocean with her.

Grace tried to remember what had happened to the necklace. She recalled her father and sister arguing about it. Laura wanted to wear it and was very upset because it was lost. It had disappeared after her mother's fall. They never went back to that beach after the accident, but her mother's friend said she looked for it where Kate had fallen, but it was never found.

Grace felt her stomach lurch. Was this all a coincidence? What would her mother's necklace have to do with Laura? "I'm just being paranoid," she said out loud.

She grabbed the empty waste basket and collected what belongings of Laura's were left, then exited as fast as she could. The air in the office had become stagnant, making her feel light-headed. She rushed out of the building and filled her lungs with cold fresh air. The sun had fallen far enough down the sky to cast a muted gray veil over the now waning day.

Grace picked up her pace, hurrying to get to the safety of her car. She felt raw and exposed as she passed groups of night students heading to their classes. As she negotiated the last set of stairs near the administration office, she noticed a man watching her. He smiled and said "Hi" as they passed. He was older, probably in his forties. Grace guessed he was a teacher. She wondered if he had known Laura.

Rushing to get settled in her car, she once again headed for home, this time with great purpose. She tried to map out what she was feeling but so much of it was buried in her memories. Grace wasn't even sure what the past had to do with now. The worst part was that she had been so young, and now there wasn't anyone left to ask.

She hoped to talk her concerns over with Michael. He seemed to be a good listener. Maybe he could help her sort all of this out - or maybe he would tell her that she was crazy. She wasn't sure she would believe him, but she hoped that was what he'd say.