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“You were my best friend.”

Her eyes fill. “I know.”

“And you didn’t tell me. You didn’t even—God, Mel, you let me find out likethat.”

She flinches.

“I walked in,” I continue, voice trembling. “You knew I was coming back early. Youknew.And you still...”

“I messed up,” she whispers. “So badly.”

“You didn’t just mess up,” I snap. “You broke me. I didn’t just lose him—I lostyou.You were my person.”

Tears are falling now, hot and fast.

Melody’s lip wobbles. “I know. And I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

“I kept waiting for an apology. For something. And then when you didn’t call, I thought maybe I made it all up. Maybe it wasn’t real.”

“Itwasreal,” she says. “You were my best friend, Alice. And I was selfish. I was jealous. And when he started flirting with me,I didn’t push him away because... I wanted to feel wanted for once. And I hated myself for it.”

She’s crying now too.

“I wanted to call,” she says. “So many times. But I didn’t deserve your forgiveness. So I convinced myself you didn’t want to hear from me.”

“I didn’t,” I whisper. “Not then.”

“And now?”

I take a deep, shaky breath.

“I don’t know.”

We stand there, surrounded by silence and the faint lap of lake water.

And somehow, I don’t feel like I’m drowning.

“I’m sorry,” Melody says again. “Truly. I was awful. And if I could take it back, I would.”

I nod slowly. “Thank you.”

It’s not a Band-Aid.

It’s not forgiveness.

But it’s something.

A piece of peace.

I find Jason later behind the cabin, sitting on the porch steps, peeling an orange with his claws. Not even subtle about it.

He looks up. “So?”

I sit beside him. “We talked.”

“Yell or cry?”

“Mostly cry.”