“Don’t try to deny it,” I say. “I saw your handwriting on that letter to Heller. There’s a photo of you in the paper with the name Sally Burke.”
Meg’s mouth drops open. She knows I’ve caught her. I’ve figured it out. Stu fiddles with his fanny pack and looks up to the ceiling, squeezing his eyes shut. He must be freaking out, trying to figure out what to do.
I’m about to explain how I found out that Meg and Sally had the same handwriting and how Cal found the photo of her in theRoxwood Read, when Stu fumbles for something, dropping his wallet. The contents spill out and I stoop down to help pick everything up. There in the middle of the pile is a nondescript debit card. It looks familiar but I can’t place it.
Mellie gasps. “Meg, is thistrue?” She reaches for the card in my hand.
But I hold on to the piece of plastic, turning it over. There, on the back, is a phone number written in permanent marker. It starts with a +41.
“What is this?” I ask, the words catching in my throat.
Stu clears his throat. “Here, I’ll take that.”
“No,” I say, my voice hard. “Tell me.”
“It’s how they get money out of their foreign bank account.” Meg’s voice is loud and furious as it echoes through the building.
“What?” I croak. “What is she talking about?”
“Tell her everything,” Meg says. “Or I—”
Meg’s words hang in the air as Stu steps back, bumping into her hard. She should stumble on her feet but instead she falls, and a loud crack reverberates through the room, shifting my organs and causing me to cry out, as Meg’s head hits the side of the stove and she collapses to the floor.
I shriek and rush to her but Mellie holds me back, blocking me from her body. I stare at Meg, lifeless on the floor, Stu shocked and frozen beside her.
“Do something!” I scream.
“It was an accident,” Stu whispers.
Mellie spins around, her eyes wide with fear and her mouth trembling. “Goldie.” Her voice is hoarse from all the singing andcheering that come with the last few days of camp. But there’s no mistaking that the rasp is so far from her usual calm. I have to believe Mellie will know what to do. Mellie always knows what to do.
“Goldie,” she says again, tears pricking her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
My stomach turns to stone.
“It spun out of control,” Stu says, crouched over Meg. He frantically hunts for a pulse. Meg makes a strange guttural sound and Stu glances up. “She’s alive,” he says. “She’s okay.”
Mellie exhales and her shoulders slump forward. She presses her hands to her forehead and groans. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“Mellie,” I say. “What are you sorry for?”
She starts pacing, walking around the room, her eyes darting from the door to the walk-in fridge to the industrial-size dough hook. All of Christina’s ingredients are lined up neatly, put away after such a big dinner. Suddenly, I wish she were here. I wishanyonewere here.
Mellie kicks up her pace, mumbling to herself, glancing at Stu, whose hand is still wrapped around Meg’s wrist, timing her pulse.
“Mellie!” I scream. “What are you sorry for?”
Mellie stops and pivots on her heel so she’s facing me. All the color has drained from her face and her eyes are glossy. She clasps her hands in front of her chest and opens her mouth slowly. “You have no idea how hard it is to run this kind of camp,” she says, her voice pleading and desperate. “The pressure we’re under to not only provide the best butbethe best. The margins in this industry are so thin. You either excel or you perish.”
“What are you saying?”
“Campers like your friends—Ava, Imogen, Tommy.” She presses her fingers to her temples. “They come from families where things are expected. Demanded.” Mellie takes a step toward me and I force my feet to stay rooted in place, to ignore the terror coursing through my veins. “If anyone would understand, it would be you, sweet Goldie. How awful it is when these people look down at us, think of us asthe help.”
I shake my head. “That’s not who I am to them.”
Mellie looks at me with pity, cocking her head to one side. She raises her hand to graze my chin. “But you are,” she says. “We all are.”
I’m quiet, sifting through the truth.
