In ways it was true what he had said. It wasn’t cool. Home was home, and when they were at the lake for a few weeks every summer, well, the lake was the lake, and you didn’t mix the two. It was as though they were a part of two separate worlds, straddling a bridge between their school and their lake friends, neither of which were meant to be crossed.

She liked to think she was standing on sacred ground at the lake, where the outside world—in her case, school and home—weren’t welcome. Cell phones were shoved in back pockets and forgotten. Video games and the Internet were no longer distractions. “It’s how it should be,” Gram said. “You kids are doing what you’re supposed to be doing—playing outside face-to-face with other kids.”

But Johnny was a good ballplayer, better than good, whether he was home or at the lake. There had been talk of possible scholarships to colleges if he was interested. Caroline didn’t know how he felt about it one way or the other. They didn’t talk about things in their family, even good things, accolades, and achievements. Everything in her family was one big secret.

“Caroline, you’re at third,” Johnny said.

A couple of the older boys protested when Johnny handpicked Caroline to play. “She’s a girl,” they said. “Girls can’t play baseball.”

Johnny looked at her. “You okay with hardball?”

She nodded and adjusted the cap on her head. She was good enough to play baseball with the boys. She knew it, but she was surprised her brother thought so too.

“She can handle it,” Johnny said to the other boys. His faith in her ability overwhelmed her. Maybe he wasn’t all that bad for a brother.

They were short a few players. “I’ll pitch for both teams,” the Needlemeyer’s father said. Mr. Roberts volunteered to be both umpire and catcher. Yes, there was a potential conflict with a play at home plate, but there was a level of trust between the kids and their parents that the game would be played fairly.

There was one boy, Jeff, who Caroline didn’t know. His family had arrived at the lake for the first time that morning. Johnny picked him to be on their team. “Can you play both center and right field?” he asked.

“I can.” Jeff was tall, and his long legs could cover a lot of ground. He looked to be around the same age as Caroline.

Megan pulled Caroline aside before the start of the game and laid claim on him. “He’s a babe,” she said. Caroline rolled her eyes. Whatever.

At one point, an older boy on Chris’s team smacked a line drive down the third baseline. Caroline got her glove out just in time for the ball to slap her palm in the center of the mitt where she pinched it tightly, the sting tearing through the leather and up her arm. She wanted to throw the mitt to the ground and shake off the pain, jump around, and yell. Instead she tossed the ball to first base like a pro, pretending it didn’t hurt, feeling not only her brother’s but all the boys’ eyes on her, especially Chris’s.

Johnny punched his fist into his mitt. “All right. One out. Two to go,” he said.

Between innings, Caroline sat with Megan and Mrs. Roberts rather than in the dugout with Johnny and the team, although they stopped bellyaching about her presence once they saw what she could do. She was part of them, but she wasn’t one of them. It was the best way she could explain her feelings at the time.

Twice Megan squealed when a foul ball flew her way. She ducked and flapped her hands like a girl, Caroline thought. Maybe Megan did it to get Jeff’s attention. But it was that kind of behavior that gave girls a bad rap when it came to sports. Johnny hit two balls out of the park. Everyone hooted and hollered. He shrugged.

The game lasted an hour and a half before it became too dark to see the ball clearly. They called it quits before anyone got hurt. Caroline felt good about her performance. She had stopped every ground ball that had been hit her way. She had thrown the ball to first base with accuracy and speed. But okay, her batting needed improvement.

In the end Chris’s team had won nine to seven. The sun set, and most of the adults fled to their perspective cabins once the mosquitoes arrived. The kids hung around afterward, reliving the highlights, poking fun at the mishaps, and extending the fun for a few minutes more.

Johnny patted Caroline’s shoulder. “Good game, Caroline.” She felt an enormous amount of gratitude, and she’d never admit it out loud to anyone, but she really did love her brother.

*   *   *

The Needlemeyer twins collected the bases. The remaining bats and mitts were plucked from the ground. Gram had been right. A baseball game was just what they had needed. They had all but forgotten about the scene at the lake and the drowning girl. At least until Adam walked onto the field. He was out of breath. His hand covered his skinny chest. They gathered around him—Caroline, Johnny, Chris, Megan, the Needlemeyer twins, even the Chitney girls. Jeff, the newcomer, lingered on the perimeter.

“I think they found her,” Adam said.

For a moment no one moved. No one uttered a word.

Megan’s eyebrows shot up. She looked at Jeff. Perhaps she saw this as an opportunity to talk with him. She stepped away, cornering him really, and filled him in on the events from the last few days.

Caroline twisted a string on her mitt, struggling with indecision to stay at the ballpark or head down to the lake. She supposed it was like a fire or car accident where it was impossible to keep away, to not want to go and look. And still she stayed rooted to her spot among the others.

“We might as well go down and see what’s going on,” one of the Chitney girls said, and tugged on Johnny’s arm.

Johnny and Chris and the two girls headed in the direction of the woods to the path that led straight to the parking lot and beach. Megan stood next to Jeff, obviously waiting to see what he would do.

Caroline hesitated a moment or two before chasing after Johnny, trying to catch up. “Wait for me,” she called, yet knowing he wouldn’t. It was dark and darker still under the hundred-year-old trees. She ran blindly, using the mitt on her left hand as a shield against the small branches whipping in front of her face. Cougar barked. She cursed herself for not having a treat to toss to him. Once, she looked over her shoulder, wondering if Megan or Adam or the new boy, Jeff, had followed, but she didn’t hear anyone behind her. She imagined they decided to take the Lake Road. She’d beat them there.

She reached the parking lot and slowed to a walk. A large spotlight lit up two boats in the middle of the lake. Men’s voices, deep and muffled, carried across the water. Crickets buzzed. She made her way through the smattering of vehicles and reached the dock where both Chris and Johnny and the girls stood. Her heart raced from the running, the excitement, the fear.

Johnny glanced at her but turned his eyes back to the water, his arm secured around one of the girl’s waists. The other sister latched onto Chris. Caroline stood on the opposite side of him, her arm brushing up against his. He smelled like dirt and sweat and sweetness all at once, making her legs weak.

A crowd formed on the beach. She thought she saw her father. He was taller than most of the other men. Yes, she was sure it was him. His right shoulder sagged whenever he stood for long periods of time. And like everybody else, he stared at the scene on the lake.

She spied her mother at the water’s edge, far from the crowd. Her mother’s long wavy hair blew in the breeze. Another woman stood next to her. She believed the woman to be Sara’s mother. She couldn’t be sure. She wondered where Sara’s father might be.

Megan, Adam, the twins, and Jeff walked into the parking lot. They headed in Caroline’s direction. Caroline took a small step away from Chris before Megan and the others reached the dock and joined them. The last thing she wanted was for Megan to suspect she liked him.