“Then what was it?”
“It was them,” Sophie said helplessly. “They were afraid, I guess.”
“Of what?”
“Are you kidding?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m not.”
“Of being found out,” Sophie said. She began to rub her hand in small circles along my back. “Of getting called out on the fact that Attorney Anderson and his beautiful wife, Arlene, weren’t actually perfect.”
“But all families have problems,” I said, thinking of Milo and Zoe’s parents. And Aiden’s too.
Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they thought if other people saw us as perfect, they could stop worrying so much about the fact that they weren’t. Or maybe it kept their minds off the things that really needed to be addressed—and never were.”
“Like Dad’s drinking.”
Sophie nodded. “And Maggie’s death.”
My brow furrowed. “But Maggie’s death was an accident. I would think it would make people feel sympathetic toward them.”
The little circles on my back slowed and then stopped completely. “Not when the death is their other child’s fault,” Sophie said.
I turned around slowly. “What do you mean, your fault? It wasn’t your fault.” My heart lurched. “It was asthma…wasn’t it?”
“The asthma was part of it,” Sophie said. “But it wasn’t the cause of death.”
“What was?” The question felt like a needle going through my ears.
“Drowning,” Sophie answered. The stare she gave me was both venomous and frightened. “She drowned, Julia. And it was my fault.”
chapter
45
Sophie got up then and walked out of the room.
But I just sat there, too stunned to move.
Had I heard her correctly? Drowned?
Where? How?
Sophie’s fault? It had to be a mistake. I looked around. Where had she gone? She couldn’t drop a two-ton word like that and then leave.
I bolted off the bed. “Sophie!” It was empty downstairs; the lights were off. “Sophie!” I screamed again. “Where are you?”
No answer. She’d only walked out fifteen seconds ago. Where could she possibly have gone? I flung open the front door. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle and the light, pale and watery, had already started to change. I ran out on the front porch, sidestepping the hole in the middle, and leaned against the rickety banister. Main Street was still empty, save for a string of cars parked outside of Perry’s. Perry’s front window was streaked with rain, making it impossible to tell who was inside. Still, I knew she was in there, probably spilling everything to the Table of Knowledge guys. God forbid she tell me the whole story. I was just her sister. Better to tell three old yahoos-or-whoever-the-hell-they-were from Smalltown, USA, so they could cluck their tongues and give her “advice.” Unbelievable.
I ran inside and pulled on a pair of clean jeans, a T-shirt, and one of Sophie’s sweatshirts. It was impossible to avoid puddles as I raced across the street, so I sloshed deliberately through them, drenching myself again. I didn’t care.
Walt, Lloyd, and Jimmy looked up as I walked into Perry’s. They were eating pieces of cream pie. Lloyd was licking his fork. A big blob of whipped cream sat like a cotton ball on the collar of his shirt. An older woman with beautiful white hair and blue rain boots on her feet was sipping from a cup in a nearby booth. Miriam was behind the counter, wiping it down with a dishcloth.
“Hey, Julia.” Walt said. “How’re you—”
“Where’s Sophie? Did she come over here?”
Walt put his fork down slowly. “Sophie’s not here. Why? She’s not over at her place?”
“Obviously not. Or I wouldn’t be looking for her here, would I?”
“What’s wrong?” Lloyd asked. He had finished eating and had inserted a toothpick in between his bottom teeth. “You two have a fight?”
“It’s none of your business.” I turned to leave, and then thought better of it. “Actually, you know what? Maybe some of it is your business. I want to know what she’s been telling you. About my family.” I yanked a chair out from underneath a table nearby and set it down hard between Jimmy and Walt. “I know you guys have all your ‘knowledge’ talks over here. I’ve seen her come and talk to you when she’s bummed out, and I’ve seen the way you pat her on the back and shake your heads and talk to her until she feels better. So I want to know what she’s been talking to you about that she doesn’t say to me?”
The three men stared at me. Even Jimmy, who had been stirring his coffee with a straw, stopped and looked at me.
“She’s never talked to us about your family,” Walt said finally. He leaned back and hooked his thumbs behind his suspenders. “Not ever.”
“She told you about me.” I glared at Lloyd. “You knew I was valedictorian of my class.”