She was now on Greenwood Lake Road, which passed around the west side, and there were numbers on several gated driveways as she passed along. She suspected the place would be somewhere along the middle of the lakeshore, and she was right. After a few miles she came to a discreet sign announcing the Dorian Institute, and a large iron gate that protected a paved roadway leading into a forest of trees. That was it: just forest, no hint of a building, though she saw signs of some kind of industrial park farther down the road. When she drove up to the gate, she realized there was a video camera and a two-way intercom. When she reached out of the window and pushed the talk button, she heard "Good morning." And then the gates parted in the middle and slid back. They must be expecting us, she thought, and drove through. The road was cobblestone, or rough paving brick. It wound among the trees for approximately half a mile and then widened. There, framed by the lake in the background, was a magnificent three- story building with eight Doric columns across the front in perfect Greek Revival style. There were windows at ground level, but they were heavily curtained. Built of red brick, the building probably dated from the late nineteenth century, and it looked every bit like an Ivy League dormitory. "Miss Hampton, I don't like the feeling I'm getting about this place," Maria said quietly. "It is very cold and formal from the outside, but inside I sense a place where there is bad magic. In the Dominican Republic, we call it Santeria. I can always tell these things." Ally knew and respected Maria's sixth sense. But then Maria sometimes still acted like a freshly minted citizen just off a green card, and she had an innate suspicion of authority- evoking buildings. Her aversion to the Dorian Institute might be nothing more than that. On the other hand, Ally was having a bit of the same feeling. There was something formidable and foreboding about the place that seemed out of keeping with its supposedly benign purpose. She felt a moment of tightness in her chest. There was a parking area off to the left, and she drove into the nearest slot and turned off her engine. This was the moment she'd been both anticipating and dreading. The clock on the dash read eleven- fifteen; she was fifteen minutes ahead of the appointed hour. "Okay, Mom, how do you feel?" Nina turned and stared at her, uncertainty in her eyes. "Where are we, Ally? I don't recognize anything." "This is the institute I told you about last night. Can you remember anything we talked about then?" "This is the place you were ... Didn't you say there's a doctor here who can do something for my... memory?" "We're both here now to just talk to him." She turned to the backseat. "Maria, can you get Mom's purse?" She nodded, then reached hesitantly for the door. She was clearly reluctant to get out. Ally walked around and opened the door for her mother.