“This is a dark day in Camp Alpine Lake history,” he says, his voice wavering. “I don’t have some powerful speech to make everything better or to absolve Mellie and Stu of what they did. All I know is that I have spent the past twelve hours trying to figure out how the hell we can make things right, how we keep the spirit of this place alive while also acknowledging the anger and resentment we feel toward the people who built it.”
He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Stu and Mellie constructed camp to be a family. They turned it into one. But then they did everything they could to break it.” He swallows his words then and pauses. “It’s hard to reconcile that with the people we all knew.”
He looks around as heads nod and tears fall.
“We don’t have the answer. We don’t know what to do. Not yet. But we wanted to thank all of you for making this place what it is. For helping those precious kids get home, and for beingtherefor one another.”
He starts to cry and turns to Mom, breaking down into her chest. Christina steps forward, ready to pick up where he left off.
She offers a weak smile and holds my gaze for a second longer. “The three of us are going to stay here for the next week or two closing up shop. Whoever wants to can stay and help. No shame if you need to get out of here, if this place is tainted forever for younow. But those of us who want to stay and make it better... well, we’ll be here to help you do that.
“And yes, there will be cookies!” Christina calls, her voice high above the crowd.
“Who knows what will happen to this place,” Mom says with a shrug. “But we’re not going to abandon it yet. Take the day to yourselves. Do whatever you like. But if you’re still here by breakfast time tomorrow, we’ll assume you’re sticking around to help. If not, you know we love you always and forever.”
I look around the tables at all the counselors mulling over the decision in their head.Stay or flee?There’s so much history here, so much baggage, so much life. Destruction.
But the answer is obvious to me at least. I have nowhere else to go.
CHAPTER 60
Then
The first time Mom and Dad brought me to Camp Alpine Lake, I couldn’t believe such a place existed. I had never seen the lake so clear, the fields so green. The sun was high and bright but a breeze swept through the trees, raising goose bumps on my arms.
It was before the season started, before campers arrived, and they let me run free, untethered, unsupervised, as I wandered around, taking it all in with my tiny legs, my wide eyes.
“Find us when you’re hungry,” Mom said, patting me on the arm as I set off on my exploration. “It won’t be hard.”
I roamed the grounds, feeling like I had been given a gift, a slice of independence. That was what camp was supposed to be, I decided—something magical and mine, at least for a moment.
CHAPTER 61
Now
I wasn’t sure if the flames were going to scare me, if I was going to be able to look at fire the same way again after what happened in the dining hall. But fire is such an important part of camp. Starting it, maintaining it, feeding it, breathing life into it. It’s all a symbol. An obvious metaphor for building something that can so easily take on a life of its own.
Looking at the one in front of me, the one being tended to by the other Alpine Lakers... it makes me mad. Stu and Mellie used what I loved against me, and tried to make me afraid of something that has only given me such comfort.
Guarded by stones and counselors who look after it, by friends and caretakers, this fire is safe. This fire is purposeful. This fire is not meant to destroy. It’s meant to rebuild.
I settle onto one of the logs and hug my middle, tucking my chin inside my sweatshirt. “Here,” Ava says. She approaches with a plastic cup filled with red wine.
“Thanks,” I say.
She sits down next to me and Imogen appears on my other side. The three of us stay huddled, staring at the fire in silence. All around us, stragglers appear, taking seats and finding drinks. The mood is so different than it was eight weeks ago when we allarrived, ready to make something great. We had so much hope then, so much energy. Now it looks like everyone has been defeated, like someone popped the bubble that held camp inside of it. They let all the air out and we’re left fighting for the oxygen.
“I’m staying,” Ava says, her voice steady.
“Same,” Imo says.
“Really?’ I ask. “Thought you guys would want to get out of here tomorrow.”
“Have you learned nothing, Goldie?” Ava jokes. She throws her arm around me. “We’re not gonna leave younow.”
“How’d you know I was going to stay?”
“Was there any other option?” Imogen asks.
