APRIL 1966 As Mary Clark drove along the deserted path leading to the grand home of Robert Kerr on the outskirts of Ottawa, she was imbued with nostalgia, having travelled up this beautiful lane numerous times in her youth. The estate was a prominent landmark at the threshold of the city. Safely nestled among tall, mature trees on top of a hill, Mr. Kerr’s house overlooked the Ottawa River, which flowed serenely under the clear evening sky. She stopped in front of the house and stepped out. The grounds had changed. She was disheartened to see that the flowerbeds, once manicured and neatly maintained, were now overgrown with weeds. She shifted her gaze to the lone structure. The house had fortunately remained frozen in time, a massive three-storey brick building well placed on ten acres of land. The most beautiful home in the area, it projected an air of limitless wealth and power while exud- ing a warm, relaxed ambiance. Mary’s mind swam with memories as she admired the house. Her fondest were from when she spent her weekends away from school here with her friend, Courtney Kerr. Her first visit had been exactly one month after September 8, 1954. Like most Canadians of that era, Mary would always remember that date. It was the day sixteen-year-old Marilyn Bell became the first person to swim across Lake Ontario, inspiring the young students at Elmwood, the private girls’ school Mary attended. For weeks the girls—fifteen-year-old Mary among them— spoke of nothing else, marvelling at how one could swim such a distance. Elmwood School was located in the stately residential neighbourhood of Rockcliffe Park—an independent vil- lage within the greater Ottawa area—and was well-known in the province for its high-quality education. It catered to the elite young women of Ottawa and area, as well as from countries around the world. Mary, who came from a modest background in Bathurst, New Brunswick, had been able to attend only because her maternal uncle had taken her under his wing and had offered her the opportunity. She owed much to his generosity. It was at Elmwood that she met Courtney. Still vivid in her mind was the day she and her uncle stepped out of the airport taxi in front of the imposing façade of the school. The campus was a maze of crisp uniforms and unfamiliar faces, evoking a mix of excitement and anxiety. Though her uncle’s commitment to her education was evident, the demands of his job as a probation officer could not be ignored. “Mary, I wish I could stay with you longer, help you settle in, but duty calls. You’re going to do great here, and I’ll visit whenever I can.” She assured him that she was perfectly fine with that, yet she felt a moment of hesitation at the door of her assigned room. A tap on her shoulder brought her attention to a pretty, confident-looking girl with long blond hair. “Hi there! You must be Mary,” the stranger greeted with a wel- coming smile. “I’m Courtney, and we’re going to be room- mates. Care to join me? I’ll show you around.” Together they navigated the halls as Courtney, who had been a student at Elmwood the previous year, shared anecdotes about their classmates and the school’s hidden gems, and Mary found herself laughing, the initial nervous- ness dissipating. From that moment, Elmwood appeared less formidable, and Mary’s anxiety was replaced by a sense of reassurance. Though Courtney was charming and engaging, Mary soon recognized that her roommate was self-centred. Yet her self-focus did not diminish her appealing and pleas- ant demeanour, making her enjoyable company. Craving friendship, Mary came to rely on Courtney, and in the days that followed, a meaningful connection developed between them, leading to a genuine friendship. Courtney invited Mary to the Kerrs’ home for the Thanksgiving weekend of that year. That visit, too, was indelibly etched in her mind—the sleek limousine pulling up in front of the school as Mary stood at the entrance, holding her suitcase; the chauffeur opening the back door; Courtney running boisterously toward her brother, Richard, who was waving to her through the glass; and the comfortable opulence of the positively joyful drive to the Kerrs’ residence. In the years that followed, there were countless invita- tions to Courtney’s home. Unfailingly, Mr. Kerr and his wife, Eugenie, went out of their way to ensure Mary felt welcome. They greeted her with genuine warmth and friendliness whenever she visited. Mr. Kerr made conscious efforts to include her in conversations, asking about her interests, involving her in discussions, and inviting her to join various family activities. Through these consistent ges- tures, a strong sense of belonging was cultivated in Mary. In those years this residence was full of activity, punctu- ated by great food and celebration. But tonight, twelve years after that first visit, Mary was here on a sombre mission. In her position as a junior lawyer with Woodbury & McLeod, the law firm that handled Mr. Kerr’s affairs, she had been tasked with initiating the proceedings for the sale of the Kerr residence, a responsibility that came on the heels of her ongoing efforts to sell Mr. Kerr’s import-export business. I have a bad cancer, and my doctors tell me it’s terminal. My primary objective now is to straighten out my financial affairs and see to it that my will is in order. Since Richard is not interested in pursuing a career in the company, it will have to be sold, and I want to make sure that it’s carried out properly. As you know, my company name is well recognized, and I have a large, well-established clientele. In my papers is a list of potential buyers for you to pursue. Mr. Kerr had casually surrendered this to Mary during her initial hospital visit two weeks ago, treating it like any routine business deal. Five months earlier, Robert Kerr was diagnosed with lung cancer; he was told he had less than one year to live. He sought help from top oncologists in Europe, then, having exhausted every treatment available, he had returned home and was now undergoing extensive chemo and radia- tion therapy at the Ottawa Civic Hospital. The cancer was in its final stage. Wanting to use these last moments to set things right, as he put it, Mr. Kerr had contacted the senior partner of Woodbury & McLeod to request a meeting with Mary to outline certain requirements. Although he was a long-standing client of Mr. McLeod, he had specifically requested Mary because she was a friend of the family.