‘No matter. Just let her know the appraisal came back, so she’ll have to call the estate agent for next steps. Then she can cut me out as the middleman, since she clearly doesn’t want me involved anyway.’
‘I think I can remember that. Appraisal back, call the estate agent— Wait,’ she said, comprehension finally setting in, ‘is Briar selling Susan’s house? Is that why she keeps disappearing?’
‘No, no,’ Tom said, ‘she’s selling the land.’
Alice frowned. ‘Well, you can’t exactly sell the land without selling the house, can you?’
‘The camp, dear,’ Tom said.
‘The… camp?’ Alice echoed blankly.
And suddenly everything made sense. Briar’s cagey responses when Alice had asked her where she’d gone to, her insistence on just pushing through for the summer, and why Briar was even here in the first place. She was making moves to sell the camp.
Alice felt stupid for not realizing sooner. Logically, something would have to happen to the camp now that Susan was gone. It shouldn’t have been surprising, yet Alice was blindsided by hurt. Camp had always been the part of her life where her emotions came to the surface, and that was happening acutely now.
Tom was still prattling on about something, so Alice interrupted him. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to go. I’ll give Briar your message.’
She stomped out to meet Sierra and the campers at the flagpole.
‘Thank god,’ Sierra said, taking the rain ponchos from Alice and distributing them to the campers. ‘Kids, are you ready to see some worms?’ The campers cheered and Alice found herself jealous of their ability to enjoy themselves despite everything.
‘I’m coming too,’ she said to Sierra, because the last thing she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts. That had always been the best thing about camp – everywhere you went, there was a friend. Even if some of them stabbed you in the back.
They trudged down the trail, Sierra and Alice taking the lead. As Sierra had promised, there were many worms for the campers’ viewing pleasure and not much else.
‘What’s wrong?’ Sierra muttered, seeing Alice glare at a particularly gross-looking worm. ‘You love worms. They’re composters!’
‘Decomposers,’ Alice corrected. ‘And of course I love the worms. I’m just in a foul mood.’
‘Couldn’t tell,’ Sierra deadpanned, earning herself a glare even more scathing than the worm’s. ‘Is it something other than…’ She trailed off, gesturing around them.
‘Briar…’ Alice closed her eyes for a second and almost tripped over a rock. Right. She was not on the sidewalk in London; she had to pay attention to where she was walking. ‘Briar is planning on selling the camp.’
She had expected a dramatic reaction, a gasp or a string of curses, but Sierra just said, ‘Oh. Yeah.’
‘Youknew?’ Alice asked, feeling even more betrayed.
‘No, I didn’t know,’ Sierra said. ‘But it was obvious, right? At least to me. Susan’s not here anymore to run things, and Briar doesn’t want to. She could hire someone to take over, sure, but would it be worth it? Would it be the same camp, without Susan?’
Alice tucked her wet hair behind her ears irritably. ‘But what about the campers who come every year? Susan died, so they just have nowhere to call home anymore?’
Sierra looked at her pityingly. ‘That’s how death works. People lose things. Their lives change, and nothing is ever the same. Did you think we could all just go on like Susan was still here? She’s not.’
It was the first time Alice had heard Sierra sound genuinely emotional since Susan’s death, and it made her want to cry or scream into her pillow about how unfair everything was.
‘We can’t just give up,’ she insisted, not willing to let go of her anger. If she did, she was sure something far worse would surface. ‘This isn’t what Susan would have wanted.’
‘What she wants doesn’t matter anymore,’ Sierra said simply.
‘That’s not true!’ Alice said, her voice pitching up. She paused to collect herself. ‘This is her legacy, her life’s work. I hope when I die no one decides to burn my research because cataloguing it all is too difficult. This camp is Susan’s mark on the world.’
Sierra didn’t seem to have anything to say to that. ‘It’s crazy how well Briar still knows you,’ she said instead.
Alice almost stopped in her tracks. ‘What?’
‘I just never would have pegged you as someone to get so emotional over this. Over anything, really. But no wonder she didn’t tell you. She must’ve known you’d flip out.’
Alice took three deep breaths, willing her steely resolve to rise to the surface again. ‘Please don’t tell anyone about this,’ she said. ‘I don’t want Briar to know that I know.’
