Marshall stiffens just slightly. I see it because I’m watching for it.
“We’ve had some rough times,” Carl says, not looking at either of us. “But losing your dad was the worst.”
Marshall nods. “It was.”
Carl sets his glass down, fingers remaining at the base. “But he was here for the other bad time. For when it got…quietafterward.”
That’s when I feel it—the shift. The narrowing.
“After what?” I ask gently.
Carl finally looks up. “After Bonnie.”
The name settles into the space between us. Marshall doesn’t look away this time.
“That’s why you’re here, right?” Carl asks. “I knew this would come up again. The moment I heard Mara was back in town.”
I lean forward, careful. “Wyatt’s been looking into what happened. There are… gaps.”
Carl huffs a humorless laugh. “There always were.”
Marshall’s voice is calmer, but I hear the tension in it. “You knew my dad. You know I’m not here to stir up bullshit.”
“I know,” Carl says. “That’s why I’ll talk.”
He takes a long drink, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I dated Mara for a while back then. Thought I was in love. Probably was, in the way you are when you’re young and convinced intensity counts as compatibility.”
“And Bonnie?” I ask.
His expression softens. “Bonnie was different. Always trying to keep the peace. Between Mara and me. Between her and Elias. Between everyone.”
“There was tension,” Marshall says.
Carl barks a short laugh. “That’s putting it politely.”
“Mara hated Elias,” Carl continues. “From day one. Said he wanted ownership, not partnership. Said Bonnie was bending herself smaller to fit into his life.”
“And you?” I ask.
“I was stuck in the middle,” he says. “Which made me real convenient when things went bad.”
Marshall’s gaze sharpens. “The fire.”
Carl nods. “People needed someone to blame. I was around a lot. Knew the roads. Knew the land. And I’d pissed off more than a few folks by not picking sides.”
“You didn’t have anything to do with it,” Marshall says.
Carl shakes his head. “No. It was an accident. That’s what it was ruled, and that’s what it was.”
“But,” I say.
He grimaces. “But people knew more than they said. Or thought they did. In this town, silence passes for kindness.”
“What happened after?” Marshall asks.
Carl’s shoulders sag. “Mara left. Packed up like the place had burned her too. We were already cracking, but that finished it. She didn’t want to stay somewhere that pretended nothing had happened.”
“That’s it?” I ask.
