I sniffle a yes. “The police aren’t even going to investigate?”
Mellie shakes her head. “There’s nothing to look into.”
I perch on the side of the bed, tapping my foot against the floor. I know Mellie’s right, but something doesn’t sit well in my stomach. Something feels... off.
Jordan Adler’s words wind their way through my brain.
That fucker got what he deserved.
But Jordan’s full of shit. Has been since he was twelve years old, pelting water balloons at me as I rode by the dilapidated Adler family cider mill on my way to school. I push him out of my mind, try to forget what else he said to me at the vigil.
I know.
I clear my throat. “What happens now?”
Mellie sits down beside me and rests one hand on my back. “I wish I could say everything will be okay, but I can’t,” she says. “That would be a lie. And you, Goldie Easton, do not deserve to be lied to.”
She presses a thumb to my cheek, wiping away a tear. “You may never know all the details of that boy’s death. And you will have to live with that. But know that what you’re feeling now istemporary. Soon, hopefully very soon, this will all feel like a bad dream. It will be part of your past and you will have moved on. Heller McConnell is not your story.Youare your story.”
Mellie looks around the cabin. She fixes her face into a smile. “But today, we have some campers to greet.”
---
Right after lunch, the loudspeaker erupts overhead. “K-day! K-day! Ten-minute warning!” Stu calls out, a gleeful lilt in his voice. “I repeat, ten-minute warning! Guard your posts, Alpine Lakers!”
My heart feels light and a flutter fills my stomach. I love the first day of camp, always have. It’s full of possibilities.
I pull on my stark white Alpine Lake counselor T-shirt and roll up the sleeves. I rush out the door, toward the gates where all the counselors are lining up, and head over to Meg, who’s unrolling a big-ass banner with all our kids’ names on it.
“Not bad, eh?” Meg says, marveling at her awful handwriting on the brown butcher paper.
“It’s basically chicken scratch,” Levin says, walking by. He winks at Meg, all flirtatious and sweet. His sad, hollow eyes from last night seem to be gone, and he jogs off toward the senior staff area.
“You guys officially back together?”
Meg’s face reddens but she smiles, gives a quick nod.
I start to laugh as someone bumps me from behind. I turn to see Ava shimmying up toward me.
“Ready to scare all these little monsters?” she asks, like nothing weird happened yesterday. Like everything is fine.
She’s holding her cabin’s banner and her hair is piled high on top of her head with a bright red ribbon tied sloppily around her loose ponytail. She smiles wide, electric and excited.
I’m about to respond, but there’s no time. The buses appear between the trees, and all of a sudden, the air is frenetic and dizzying as they come to a stop in front of the dining hall. Kids pour out of the buses. It’s so easy to tell who’s a new eight-year-old and needs hand-holding, and who’s fifteen, ready to be reunited with friends they spent the whole school year missing. There are shrieks and tears and awkward stumbles over ginormous duffle bags.
Soon, Meg and I have gathered our girls, ten in total, and are ready to lead them back to the bunk. Ava’s sisters, Jordie and Bianca, blend in with the others, even though they’re both wearing sneakers that cost more than my laptop. I catch them glancing at Ava and whispering behind cupped palms. But they don’t approach Ava and she doesn’t look at them. No hugs or hellos. They keep to themselves, hanging in the back of the group.
“Let’s go, Bloodroot!” Meg calls out, her voice joyful.
The girls scamper behind her and I bring up the rear, herding them all like little ducklings. Before we head down the hill, I look back over my shoulder to see Ava greeting her campers. She bends down to give them big hugs and welcomes them into her orbit.
CHAPTER 24
Then
We didn’t know who else to call.
It was obvious from the moment we sat down at the breakfast table on New Year’s Day. Dad cleared his throat. “I’m going to reach out.”
