Page 39 of Bluebell Tides

Ruth’s heart cracked. She couldn’t believe that all this had happened without her knowledge. She’d been in Manhattan, worried sick about a daughter who, she now learned, had been pregnant and manipulated and frightened.

Incredibly, her daughter had ended up at the very house where, all those years ago, Ruth had realized she could never be a Caldweck. She’d realized that she couldn’t live in a fantasy world.

“I met Dad,” Sloane said, sniffling. “I met his wife, CeeCee, and his three kids. It was awkward, to say the least. CeeCee looked at me like she hated me. And the kids were confused. Quentin kept asking me what I planned to do about the baby and Jimmy, and each time I said, ‘I plan to raise the baby? On my own?’ Like, I didn’t know what he wanted me to say.”

Ruth wrapped her arms around her daughter and breathed into her ear. “You’re safe. You’re with me. You don’t ever have to deal with the Caldwecks again. Your baby is not their baby. Your life doesn’t belong to them. Not legally. Not ever.”

Sloane shook in Ruth’s arms but said nothing. Outside, a storm rumbled overhead, and rain stuttered across the hotel’s roof. Over and over again, Ruth promised her daughter that she would keep her safe. Over and over again, she promised her daughter that all the pain was over. Maybe Ruth shouldn’t have been so sure of that. Maybe she shouldn’t have made promises she couldn’t keep.

21

Present Day

On the day of the trial, Sophie, Dina, Celia, and Ruth woke before dawn and sat on the back porch, watching the sun glow through the mountains and rise over the other side. Unable to eat anything, Sophie sipped her coffee and mentally scrolled through what she’d decided to say in court today. If she was honest, if she was true to herself and her nature, Dina was sure she’d pull through. Sophie wasn’t so sure. Like Ruth, she was scared by promises that couldn’t be kept. She knew that so much could go wrong.

Dina and Sophie needed to be at the courthouse an hour and a half before the hearing. Dina drove Sophie, fidgeting with the radio until they found a station of nineties hits. Dina hummed along, then laughed and said she and Ruth used to listen to these songs all the time back at Yale, back when they’d first met. “It takes me back to brighter days,” she said. “Back before Ruth was pregnant. It felt like everything was possible back then.”

Sophie considered this. “Were you disappointed when Ruth got pregnant with Sloane?”

“Disappointed? No. Living with Ruth and baby Sloane during undergrad was actually incredible. It grounded me in ways that I’ve always thought were essential for my life later on.” Dina explained that she now had children of her own. She also mentioned that for a little while, she and Ruth hadn’t spoken much. “She was angry and worried and panicky about everything. She liked to take out her fears on those who cared for her the most. I’m so grateful that we found our way back to one another. That’s what real love is. It always forgives.”

It was a surprise to learn that Ethan, Jen, Cedric, Lizzie, Freddy, and their lawyers were all seated in the same waiting room as Dina and Sophie. They were all quiet, dressed in black. Sophie felt Ethan’s eyes upon her as she walked by. She felt the burn of his gaze. She refused to look over at him. She remembered the last time she’d seen him, when he’d been kissing that girl outside that bar, mere days after he’d abandoned her at a hospital with burns up and down her body. Sometimes that story felt like it belonged to someone else’s life. Other times, like when she looked at the light scars on her arms, she knew that story was entirely her own.

How could I love someone who could do something like that to me? she wondered. She promised herself—with as much might as she could find—never to do something like that again.

As she sat, Sophie spotted Jen looking at her, arms crossed, cheeks sunken in. Was that guilt, echoing from her eyes? Sophie prayed that Jen wasn’t planning to go back on her word. She prayed that she’d tell the judge exactly what had happened.

The next hour passed slower than any hour ever had. Sophie was nauseated.

When it was time for their hearing, Sophie, Ethan, and his wealthy friends stood and walked into the main hall. Their lawyers followed, talking to one another in ways that suggested most of them already knew each other. Sophie guessed these wealthy twenty-somethings had been in trouble before. Their parents always knew where to turn, and their lawyers had had time to bond.

Sophie slid into a row and sat by herself, while the rest of the people she’d camped with sat together two rows back. She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced her eyes to the judge, who studied what was probably an analysis of their case on a piece of paper. He was balding with pillowy lips. When Sophie glanced back, she saw her mother and Ruth entering through the back door, their faces open and slightly panicky. Sophie still burned with memory of what Ruth had told them the other night—about the desperation of her life so far and all she’d lost. When they returned to Bluebell Cove, Sophie promised herself she would help Ruth put her world to right. She would do anything she could to make amends for what the Caldwecks had done to her.

The judge called the court to order. It wasn’t like on television. He didn’t use a gavel, and his voice was higher-pitched than she’d imagined.

“I want to begin by saying that this case is incredibly painful for me, personally,” the judge said. “As it is for most everyone who knows and loves Oregon. In previous years, wildfires have raged across the state, destroying forests, homes, and animals. It’s been a devastating advance in climate change, and it's something we must fight to avoid. The fact that the five of you went into the woods—so arrogantly—and built a fire despite warnings fills me with dread. And, I must say, anger. If you’re capable of that, what else are you capable of?” The judge wet his lips. He looked exhausted.

“That said, there’s always more to the story than meets the eye,” the judge went on. “I suppose that’s the reason we uphold these commitments to law and order.” He cleared his throat, then announced that one of the park rangers scouting the mountains that April night would speak first.

The park ranger was in her mid-fifties. “I’ve been a park ranger for the Oregon Parks Department for the past thirty years,” she said. “It’s been the privilege of my life to know these mountains so well.”

The judge asked the park ranger to explain how she’d discovered the fire and whether she’d suspected a campfire in the area.

“I saw a few cars hightailing it away from where the fire seemed to have started,” the park ranger explained. “But it was hard to tell if they were running from the fire because they started it, or because they were protecting themselves.”

The judge asked the park ranger to explain the site of the fire’s origin.

“There were tents. Camping equipment. Beer cans. It was clear that whoever was out there wanted to spend a few nights around a bonfire.” The park ranger’s steely gaze landed on Sophie, and Sophie’s eyes filled with tears. This woman was her hero. She couldn’t believe she’d disappointed her so greatly.

The witnesses continued to come to the front of the court to testify: about the fallout after the fire, about the CCTV footage that suggested the five East Oregon graduate students had been the criminals who’d started the fire in the first place. Sophie’s stomach sloshed with guilt.

The first of their party to be called to the stand was, miraculously, Sophie. Sophie hadn’t known this would be the case. But when she stood, walked to the front, and slid into the chair, she decided it was a good thing. She could speak for herself before the others could.

The judge peered down at her. “Sophie Harper,” he said. “You are a grad student at East Oregon State, correct? Would you kindly tell the court what your major is?”

“I was a grad student,” she said, her voice shaking. “But after the incident in the mountains, I dropped out.”

The judge leaned back in his chair, waiting.