ShehadwrittenDon’t screw this upon that piece of paper with those sketchy cards. Maybe they were connected to Mark Cantor, too.
I nod. “She might have.”
Ava covers her face with her hands. “My dad,” she says. “He could have paid her to do it. To get rid of him and make it look like an accident.”
“Are you serious?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but, I mean... maybe.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “She needed cash, right? If he thought Heller could actually tell the world about what he was doing... I don’t know what he’s capable of.” Ava sniffles. “Fuck. I’m so sorry this all comes back to my garbage dad.”
But I cut her off. “None of this bullshit is your fault. We’re going to prove it.”
“What are you going to do?” Imo asks.
I don’t want to admit that I’m all out of ideas. But looking at Ava and Imogen... I can’t lie to them. Not again.
“I don’t know,” I say.
Ava pushes herself to stand. “That’s why you have us,” she says. “We have to stick together today, okay? Everything will be fine. Three on one. That kind of thing.”
I nod, grateful for them, their devotion, that all the things I thought could break our friendship turned out to be untrue.
I gaze out at the lake, the sun beating down, bouncing off the surface. Stu and Mellie are down here, too, wading in the shallow end, splashing around and laughing with the little ones. I think of everything they’ve done to make this place the best, to keep it alive.
Having this come out about Meg would destroy them. It would destroy camp.
“I have to tell Stu and Mellie,” I say, nodding to the directors.
Ava sighs. “I don’t know, Goldie. You’re basically begging to get fired. The whole sneaking into the winter cabin thing?”
I shake my head. “This is bigger than that. They’d want to know if a woman they trusted was a killer, don’t you think? If someone else found out, it could bring this whole place down.”
Imogen bites her lip, her gaze following the directors as they climb out of the lake and towel off.
“We can’t let Meg destroy Alpine Lake,” I say.
Imogen bites the inside of her cheek. “We’ll come with you.”
Ava nods. “Let’s wait until after banquet, okay? Jordie and Bianca are really looking forward to it.” She smiles. “It’s the best night of the year.”
---
Meg avoids me for the rest of the day, which I guess is what I would do if the person I’d been living with for eight weeks found out I was lying about my identity and was likely a killer.
She ditches Bloodroot at lunch to help out with banquet preparation and I spot her running around the kitchen, her arms full of streamers and balloons, a frantic smile plastered on her face.
I don’t see her at rest hour, when we’re supposed to be helping the teary-eyed girls pack their trunks to go home. And she doesn’t show up to afternoon swim, the last chance our campers will have to splash around in the lake they’ve all come to love.
She’s even MIA in the afternoon, when the girls are getting ready for banquet, putting on their fancy dresses and dabbing makeup on their eyelids. I help them pin their hair into updos and twist their braids into crowns. I curl my body around the little ones who are crying, devastated to leave this place. I watch as they sit close to one another, holding hands and complimenting each other’s outfits. I take their photos as they hug one another desperately, like it’s the last time they’ll ever be together. I marvel at Jordie and Bianca, right in the middle of the group, when they had been on the outside only a few weeks before.
None of them ask for Meg. They’re interested in only each other, in the friendships now imprinted on their hearts. The other Ramblers pour out of their cabins onto the lawn. Imogen, Ava, andI stand together, watching the girls. They’re so open, so warm. Untouched by the grief that comes with growing up. I want to box them up and keep them this way forever.
Ava rests her head on my shoulder. When I look down, I see she has tears in her eyes. “I miss it,” she says softly.
“Me too,” Imogen says.
Finally, the dining hall bell rings, summoning us all to banquet, and we follow our campers, their tiny heels clacking against the gravel.
It always makes me emotional, this night. How it signifies the end of summer, the marking of something magical, something that changed you.
