“Yes,” Gram said. “He knows.”

Caroline rolled over and put her back to Gram. She wished she could start over and return to the first day of summer, when her family had made sense in their screwed-up way. She wanted to go back to that day on the beach when Sara had drowned so that she could pull her off the pier rather than what she did, which was to leave her alone. Sara’s death was the catalyst that pushed her into asking questions about drownings, about Billy and her mother. Now that she knew the truth, she didn’t know what to do with it, with all the anger she felt inside.

Gram put her hand on Caroline’s hip. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Sure, I’ll be okay,” she said, but she didn’t sound convincing even to her own ears.

*   *   *

After Gram left her room, Caroline sneaked into the bathroom. Her mother and Johnny were arguing in the kitchen. They started shouting. Caroline didn’t think she had ever heard her mother raise her voice at Johnny. A rush of adrenalin shot through her as the screen door banged shut. She saw Johnny storm past the window. She ran out to catch him.

“Johnny, wait,” she said, hustling down the steps and onto the dirt road. He kept walking, turning down the hill toward the lake. “I don’t hate you,” she called after him. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck off, Caroline,” he yelled, and disappeared around the corner.

Caroline turned and saw her mother standing at the edge of the yard. Their eyes locked for a brief moment before her mother turned her back and walked away.

Caroline glanced at Willow and scurried underneath the swooping limbs. She climbed into the crook of the thick branches, pulled her knees to her chest, balancing her chin on top. The cut on her palm throbbed.

She had really screwed things up. She hadn’t meant to hurt Johnny. She wasn’t sure what her intentions were anymore. She was only certain of one thing. She wasn’t going to win her mother’s love, not after what she had done.

Maybe Gram was right, and it was up to Caroline to determine what her relationship with her mother would be. She admitted, beneath the pain and anger, she felt a kind of power, believing it was her choice to make.

The only problem was she no longer knew what she wanted from her.

CHAPTER FORTY

Jo kept walking. She hadn’t meant to turn away from Caroline, but she didn’t know what to say to her. She made a promise to herself to find her daughter later and talk with her once she’d had a chance to figure out how to explain to her the decisions she had made so long ago. But right now the only thing she could think to do was to keep moving.

The more distance she put between herself and the cabin, where she had left Gram wringing her hands in the kitchen and after Johnny had stormed out on her, the more relief she felt. There was freedom in having the burden of a secret lifted. Johnny finally knew the truth about Billy being his father. He was angry, but he’d get over it. He’d finally understand who he was, why so many of his interests and mannerisms were the opposite of Kevin’s. And maybe he’d finally understand why Kevin wasn’t as accessible as a father should be to his son, especially in his younger years when he had needed Kevin most. There had always been an invisible divide between them that neither knew how to cross. The secret had become bigger than both of them, expanding into every aspect of their relationship until one day the distance was too large to bridge. It was what happened to lies over time.

Yet there was one lie, a bigger secret, she kept.

She picked up her pace, a thread of fear pulling at her thoughts. She imagined Johnny was going straight to Chris, his best friend and newfound cousin, but also to Chris’s mom. Jo believed Dee Dee always suspected Johnny was Billy’s, but Jo had promised Kevin she wouldn’t tell her the truth. He was adamant people believed Johnny was his son for reasons Jo could no longer remember. It had something to do with protecting her, hiding the truth about what really happened the night Billy drowned.

She had to get to Kevin first before he heard part of their secret was out. She wasn’t sure how he would react. They had to get their stories straight. She wound her way to the lake, taking the long way so she wouldn’t bump into Johnny. He needed space. She understood that.

The sun was starting to set by the time she had reached Lake Road and the Pavilion. The water sparkled in the diminishing light. The beach crowd was thinning as families made their way home. The parking lot was emptying of the men who had worked to pitch the tents all afternoon. The festival was moving forward as planned, and by the looks of things, it would be ready for the crowds tomorrow.

The sound of metal clanging drew her attention to the docks. Stimpy and two of his men were pulling the cages from the water, the traps once again filled with snappers. They were removing the larger of the turtles and tossing the smaller ones back. Her gazed shifted to the tents and the stand with a newly painted sign reading SNAPPER SOUP. She had a sinking feeling in her gut. Stimpy was abandoning the search for Sara. She ground her teeth. This was Heil’s doing.

The recovery team was on the lake on the other side of the floating pier, but there wasn’t much movement on the boat. She wondered if perhaps they were giving up too. The three-man team had to be exhausted.

The entire scene, the feel of it, the stands and tents, the signs posted promising homemade pies and funnel cake, the red flags flying around the docks for the fishing competition, all of it reminded her of the night they had pulled Billy from the lake. She half expected the recovery team to signal her, letting her know they were bringing up a body.

She walked toward the beach, the strength of the memory pulling her forward. For the moment she forgot about the urgency to find Kevin. SWIM AT YOUR OWN RISK, written in big black ink glared at her. She opened the gate of the chain-link fence and stepped onto the sand. It was something about the way the recovery team lingered next to the floating pier, the way the light from the setting sun flickered across the waves that pulled her onto the beach and to the water’s edge.

It was an accident, she caught herself saying. She hadn’t meant for it to happen.

In her mind, she was back on the pier, lying down looking up at the stars. Drops of lake water covered her skin. She shivered in the chilly night air. Billy and Kevin were racing toward her, arms and legs kicking in a frenzy to reach the pier first. The splashing water and the hum of crickets on the shoreline were the only sounds she heard. The bar on the second floor of the Pavilion had closed. The three of them were alone on the water.

Billy climbed the ladder first, beating his chest in triumph. He reached down and pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her waist. “To the victor go the spoils.” His lips tugged her ear.

She tossed her head back, exposing her neck and thrusting out her chest, encouraging him to take it a step farther, thinking this was how it was supposed to be. Billy was the first to have her then, and it was no surprise he was the first to have her now. He nibbled her neck and collarbone, kissing the swell of her breasts spilling out the top of her bikini. Her body responded with pleasure, but all the while she was thinking about Kevin, strangely disappointed he didn’t make it to her first. But he was on his way, she reminded herself. He was still swimming toward her. Her heart beat a little faster.

Kevin made it to the pier and climbed the ladder. She could hear his heavy breathing from the long swim, could feel his eyes on her, watching her. She closed her eyes and moaned, enjoying the attention, the longing, the physical pull from both boys. Oh, how she loved the power, the way every fiber in her body pulsed, alive and electric.