He shrugged again. “I don’t watch it. I’ve never been able to watch an NFL or college game. It just makes me think of . . . what might have been.”
“Chess brings out that competitive edge. Is that why you never lose?”
“I lose,” Marshall said. “I just don’t like it when I do.”
Sidney looked toward the kitchen. Grace was out of sight. Sidney heard the faucet running as Grace filled the coffee pot. She looked back to Marshall.
“When we talked last time,” Sidney said, “when you and I played chess at your house, you told me that you knew a lot about Grace’s friends.”
“Yeah,” Marshall said, staring at the chessboard.
“That you listened a lot, and that people underestimated your awareness.”
“I remember.”
Sidney hesitated just a moment. “What can you tell me about Henry Anderson?”
The mention of Grace’s high school boyfriend caused Marshall to look up from the chess pieces. He made eye contact just briefly before returning his gaze to the board.
“What do you want to know?”
Sidney paused again. “I want to know how the same thing could happen to two different people who loved your sister.”
A long stretch of silence followed, while Marshall scrutinized the chessboard, before he spoke.
“You know, it’s funny. I was thinking about the last timewe played chess, too,” he finally said, looking up from the board. “You told me that everyone involved in my accident likely had regrets about it. That Ellie, especially, must carry remorse for that night. You remember telling me that?”
“I do,” Sidney said. “Are you still angry at Ellie because of the accident?”
Marshall shook his head. “I was never mad at Ellie.”
“No?”
“No,” Marshall said. “She wasn’t driving.”
Sidney sat back. She sensed something happening between them, stayed silent.
“Grace insisted on driving,” he said. “Ellie offered, but Grace got behind the wheel, anyway. Ellie knew the consequences for Grace. Her best friend drunk and in a bad car accident. Neither of them was injured, so before the police arrived, they switched places and Ellie climbed behind the wheel. The other driver, the U-Haul guy, had been drinking. The blame fell on him, which was perfect for Ellie and Grace. It took them both off the hook. For me”—Marshall looked back down at the board—“it didn’t really matter.”
Another moment of silence fell between them.
“What does that have to do with Henry Anderson?” Sidney asked.
“I was mad at Grace for a long time. She got away with it, and I was stuck the way I am. Bad back then, worse today. Worse still, in the future. But my anger at Grace didn’t last. The two of us? We have a connection that no one else understands.”
“Because you saved her? When you donated your bone marrow?”
“Yeah, that’s part of it. But lots of people donate marrow. After the accident, I realized that I needed her to help me when my body fails. Grace knew it, too. I couldn’t stay angry with her for long. And I was relieved when she came home.”
“Still, Marshall, how does Henry Anderson play into all of this?”
“Now that Grace is back, I refuse to lose her again. I’ve kept their secret long enough.”
“Ellie and Grace’s secret? About the accident?”
“And all the other secrets that group has hidden and buried.”
Sidney glanced toward the kitchen, then back to Marshall. “What other secrets?”
