I burst out laughing, and for the next hour, we work together in tandem, passing pieces of paper back and forth, as we sort the files in terms of immediacy. It’s tedious work, but it’s the easiest, most relaxing part of my week. At one point, Olivia reads some of the complaints aloud in a British accent, looking up at me every few sentences in hopes that I laugh, which I do, so hard I snort out a little bit of coffee onto my keyboard.
“Oh my god,” I say, wiping it up with a napkin. “Thank you for that.”
“At your service.” Olivia takes a deep bow in her seat, then cracks up, covering her hand with her mouth.
“I’m surprised you’re so chill,” I say. “I know I said I didn’t want to talk about it, but I haven’t heard from Erica yet, and I’m starting to think…”
“Think what?” Olivia cocks her head.
“That she killed Billy.” The words come out choked, like I can barely get them out.
Olivia frowns. “She didn’t kill him.”
“How do you know?”
“They let her go early this morning,” Olivia says, tucking herhair behind her ear. “Made her get a paternity test, which I told Aunt Sally was a dumb idea anyway. So rude. If she says it’s his, it’s his. But I don’t think they ever suspected her ofmurder.”
“Oh, thank god,” I say, resting my hand over my heart, the relief immediate and all-consuming.
Olivia’s face sours for a moment as she turns back to the computer.
“What?” I ask.
“Obviously, I’m happy it wasn’t Erica,” she says slowly. “But with every false lead it just means we still don’t have an answer.” She turns back to her computer, typing quickly, and I realize she’s right.
Billy’s death is still a question mark.
The Party
3:00 a.m.
Erica’s slap stung his skin, and Billy released her wrist, raising his hand to his cheek.
“We can talk about this in the morning,” she said, her voice high and urgent. “But I’m leaving. Now.”
Billy let her go. He had to. She walked away and grabbed her bike, and then, as if she was never there at all, she was gone. He watched the spot where she had been, wishing that she would come back, willing her to return. He must have stood like that for five, ten minutes. Or maybe it was only thirty seconds. Billy couldn’t keep track of time.
He looked up at his house, all of its windows dark, and wondered if his parents were sleeping in the same room tonight, if Olivia was tucked safely in the pool house. He wondered if anyone had puked on the lawn, if Glenda, the housekeeper, would talk shit about him to the gardeners in the morning.
He could climb into bed and sleep for twelve hours. More, probably. But he couldn’t let the night end like this. Not when Erica’s voice was bleating in his head. Not when he had just learned the most important information of his life.
He turned back around and faced the water. Jutting out from the rocky beach was the family’s small dock where they kept a tender, thelittle boat they used to get back and forth toSea Witch, their sailing yacht, moored in the Sound, closer to the marina.
Billy’s feet moved before he could formulate a plan, and pretty soon, he was on the tender gliding over the surface of the water. He would go to the boat and sleep there tonight. Or at least watch the sun come up. It was there that he always felt calm, that he could always find answers. It was there that Billy would find a way forward.
Millie
The very last place in the world I want to be right now is on a lifeguarding shift with Ethan, but here I am, trying my hardest not to look at him. It helps that he’s positioned down on the sand, holding the flotation device over his stomach, and I’m up on the tower, trying to focus on the single swimmer bobbing up and down in the water. The forecast threatened rain, and the sky is a dark, menacing gray that makes me shiver under my oversize hoodie. The beach is empty, but Ethan and I can’t leave our post for another few hours.
We’ve barely said a word to each other since we got here, but all I want to do is melt into the chair. And yet there’s a pulsing in my chest, daring my heart to burst out of me, and finally, after a few more moments of silence, I can’t take it anymore.
“I can’t believe you told her,” I blurt.
Ethan looks up at me, surprised. “Itold her? I assumed you did.”
“Why would I ever tell her something like that?”
“Because you guys tell each othereverything.”
