We’re both quiet and there’s so much between us. So many years of shit unsaid. All of the secrets I kept for him when we were kids. The memories of playing house and fairies and slaying dragons on each other’s lawns. The final few months in the fall, when everything seemed shiny and possible, when I becameone of them, when without words we put the past behind us. When Heller cast his spotlight on me. I thought Cal and I had mended our bond. I thought he would be myfriendagain. But he shoved me aside like everyone else.
“I went there.” I bend over and grab a handful of mints, a few beads from the arts and crafts shed that fell from my bag.
Cal crouches down next to me. “What?”
“The clerk’s office.”
“Did you find anything?” He smells like cigarettes and whiskey, sweat and gasoline. He smells like Roxwood, like winter. I don’t know whether to trust him with the information about Ava and her dad. Telling him feels like a betrayal. But omitting the information... I’m not sure I can do that to Heller.
“He thought Ava’s dad was involved in some scandal,” I say. “He wrote a dozen tips to newspapers the day he died.”
Cal’s eyes widen. “You think she...?”
I want to shake my head. To say absolutely not. But I hesitate, the words stuck in my throat.
Cal starts pacing around the alley, hands pulling at his greasy hair. “Did you see anything there about someone named Sally Burke?”
The woman who worked next to Heller, who Ruthie thought he wasboning. My stomach flips at the thought.
“They sat next to each other.”
Cal takes in this information and furrows his brow like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “Did you ever meet her?”
I shake my head.
“Judah asked me to go through Heller’s mail the other day,” Cal says. “He couldn’t bring himself to do it. I found this.”
He reaches into his pocket and hands me a slim envelope. There’s no return address, but Heller’s name is written on the front in handwriting that looks messy and familiar, like the words on the photocopies of the debit card.
I turn over the envelope and pull out the letter.
In the same handwriting, there are only a few words.
I’m so sorry. Can we talk?
Sally
“What the hell is this?” I ask.
Cal shrugs. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
I shake my head and stare at the letter.What was she sorry for?
“Hey,” Cal says, reaching out to touch my shoulder. “Remember you told me that you wanted me to back you up when you come clean about the accident? About who was driving?”
I nod. That feels like so long ago now.
“I’ll do it.” Cal’s voice is sure and he straightens his shoulders for emphasis. “There’s clearly something fucked-up going on. Everyone needs to know the truth. About everything.”
A rush of emotion comes over me but before I can say anything else, the door opens behind me. I spin around to find Meg, ambling toward me. She slings an arm over my shoulder. “You okay, Goldie?”
The last thing I need is Meg finding out about whatever the hell is going on with Cal right now. “Fine,” I say.
Meg lingers for a second but then takes a step back. “All right. By the pool table if you need me.” She retreats but when I look at Cal, there’s a puzzled look on his face.
“Who’s that?”
“My boss. Meg.”
