“Uh, yeah. Imo not getting into USC is absurd,” I say.
But Ava shakes her head. “I mean, yeah. But—no offense, Imo—I’m still on the Heller train. Goldie, Iwaswith him that night.”
I straighten my spine and lean in.
Ava squeezes her eyes shut, then blinks a few times. “You were right. Heller had found out about what my dad was up to.” She swallows hard and closes her eyes. “That first night out at Truly’s,you must have said Imogen’s name because he thought I was you,” she says pointing to Imo. “The next day, he boated up to camp in that dinghy, remember? Before Levin shooed him away, he said he had some information he needed to get to Goldie and he thought I was the only person he could trust to get it to her. He said we needed to meet at the waterfront at two a.m. that night.”
“Why didn’t he come to me?” I ask.
“He didn’t think you’d trust him. Told me he’d done something bad to you.”
“And you agreed. Without telling me.”
Ava clenches her fists. “He said it had something to do with Mark Cantor.” She buries her head in her hands. “Obviously I didn’t tell himIwas Ava, Mark Cantor’s daughter. I wanted to know what he knew so I let him think I was Imogen.
“Later that night, I snuck down to the waterfront. He started handing me a bunch of pieces of paper, saying my dad was a criminal, that he was depriving Roxwood of life-changing amounts of money. But before he could explain, he started spilling his guts about what happened between you two and how guilty he felt.” She grabs my hand and pauses, her eyes locking with mine. “He kept saying he was so sorry and that I should tell you he loved you. He said he was a coward and he always loved you.”
My brain is a mess of questions and half-truths as I try to piece together who Heller was and what the hell he was doing. I squeeze Ava’s hand harder and try to focus. “What did the papers say?”
Ava tucks a stray piece of hair into her hood. “I didn’t even take them. I was so flustered. I never read them.” She’s looking down and using her hands to punctuate each word. “That’s when weheard a golf cart coming. I freaked out and ran up the back trail and bolted straight to your cabin,” she says. “I didn’t really believe it. Some random kid up in Vermont uncovering a massive financial scandal? It was absurd. Especially since the IRS wasn’t able to nail my dad a few years back.”
Ava looks up, her eyes red and watery. “In the morning, I went off campus to get those coffees. I thought we could tell each other everything and start the summer fresh. But there were a bunch of hospital nurses at the 7-Eleven in town, talking about Heller.” Ava shakes her head. “They said he was found dead at camp. I knew I couldn’t tell anyone about meeting him because people would think I had something to do with it. They said it was an accident, so...” She pauses. “I don’t know. I... tried to forget about it.”
We’re quiet again, mulling over what she’s said. “But the main thing is that he was alive when I left him. He was alive.”
“So whoever came down in that golf cart could have done it,” I say.
Ava inhales as if the idea hadn’t occurred to her.
“Do you remember anything about who it was?” Imo asks.
Ava shakes her head. “I got out of there as soon as I could.”
“But how did Heller know about your dad?” I ask. “He said he had proof. How?”
Ava shakes her head. “I don’t know.” She’s hugging her knees to her chest as she rocks back and forth.
Imogen sighs, exhausted, and opens her mouth. “Ava,” she starts. “I have to ask. Do you know where your dad was that night? Is it possible...”
Ava freezes. “I... I don’t know.”
“Could he have been here? Could he have known Hellerknewand killed him after you went back to upper camp?”
The whole thing sounds wild, but so does Hellerbeing murderedat Camp Alpine Lake.
“I’ll connect to Wi-Fi tomorrow,” she says. “The stepbitch keeps her Instagram so up-to-date, it’ll show where they were that night. Probably at a country club in Palm Beach or something equally tacky.”
It’s a joke but no one laughs.
“How did this summer get so fucked?” I ask, my voice carrying with the wind.
Imogen’s hand stops and she squeezes my shoulder. “Because we let ourselves drift,” she says. “We forgot thatwewere the most important thing about this place.”
Ava inhales sharply. We both know Imo’s right.
“We kept secrets from each other. Big ones,” Ava says. “We promised we’d never do that.”
I nod. “I’m sorry,” I say.
