When Bronwyn still looked puzzled, he took another breath. “Scott has been accused of this … thing,” he said, even though he hadn’t planned to tell her this. It was the last thing he’d planned to tell her. “He coaches wrestling now. At Swithin. And he has been accused of something with the boys he coaches. They’re saying he might’ve incited … violence … among them. Hazing, I guess. Like, he might’ve encouraged it. And I can’t stop thinking that there’s some connection between that and what I said that day—the day of the banquet. The last day you and I …”
He brushed his hand across his forehead, feeling blown off course. “I deserved Scott hitting me that day for what I said, but maybe he thinks that’s a permissible way to handle things—beating up people gets them to listen and change. But I need you to tell me if that’s why you left me, if that’s why you stopped speaking to me. Because of what I said. Because you sided with Scott. Because you thought I deserved getting my ass kicked, too. And I want to know if you think that whatever Scott’s done now, I’m partly responsible for. I just need to know what you think. I need you to say it out loud.”
He felt winded, saying all this. His chest felt like it was on fire.
It took a long time for Bronwyn to speak. “If you think this is funny, it’s not.”
He dared to look at her face. It was red. She was shaking. “This is a joke,” she stated. “Right?”
“No …”
“So I’m supposed to believe you just … blocked it out.”
“Blocked what out?”
“I’m supposed to believe you didn’t see it? Or you didn’t hear? Or that he didn’t tell you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m supposed to believe you really buy that bullshit about Scott? That you didn’t come down here to ask me the obvious questions?”
He frowned. “Those are my obvious questions.”
“I get it, of course,” she went on, ignoring him. “I could see you’d want answers right now. But don’t play dumb with me about the rumors, Charles. I know you know.”
“Rumors?”
She sniffed. “Seriously. Just stop it.”
“Huh?”
She lowered her chin and stared at him hard. “You really don’t know?”
He shook his head. A crow cawed. Far off, very, very far off, a trunk honked its horn. “Know what?”
“How could you not know?” Bronwyn said.
He shrugged, helpless. His voice started to quiver. “You’re freaking me out.”
She sighed. “For God’s sake, Charles. Do you really think you’re the only one who blurts out awful things when they’re frustrated or annoyed? You think you’re the only one who picks on his younger brother? Who suffers from sibling rivalry? Cut yourself some slack. Sibling rivalry is everywhere. It’s even here in the woods. You’re not the only one. There’s more in this world than just your tiny little life.”
“I …”
Bronwyn gazed at him warily, her lips parted. “Whatever this thing is that Scott is implicated in, you really think it’s because of what you said? Do you really think you have that much power over people’s destinies or identities, Charles? And do you really think your brother is that impressionable? Or that insane?”
Charles shrugged one shoulder, about to respond, but Bronwyn interrupted, holding up a pointer finger. “Is it possible you want Scott to be guilty, so you can finally be held responsible for the way you felt about him? You want to find out something bad about him, don’t you? Something that incriminates him. Because that would incriminate you, too. So you’re finally rightfully punished.”
Charles could feel the sweat under his arms.
She looked at him, her eyes dimming. “I hid from you.”
“I know,” he said. “Because of what I said to Scott.”
“No.” She said it loudly, almost a shout. “Not because of what you said to Scott. Jesus. Because of what I thought you knew. It’s why I told you we shouldn’t see each other anymore, Charles. And it’s why I cut off ties with all our other friends, too. I thought you saw it, and I figured you’d misunderstand. I thought you’d tell all our friends, too, and they’d side with you.”
He started to tremble. “What are you talking about?”
She breathed heavily, and then shook her head. “Forget it.”
“Bronwyn …”
“Seriously. Let it go.” She turned around clumsily, heading away from him. “I didn’t leave you because of anything you said. Just … that should be enough, right?”
“But …”
“It was nice seeing you, Charles. I have to go—I have a doctor’s appointment soon. But I wish you all the best. Please tell Mirabelle it’s my fault, okay? So they don’t blame you. There are plenty of other people here who’d be happy to do an interview. Everyone’s great.”
A flame rippled through him. “No. You can’t leave.”
She kept going. He ran down the ravine and caught her cold, fleshy arm. She whirled around, fear flashing across her face. “What aren’t you telling me?” Charles demanded.
She shivered. “You don’t want to know.”
“I do.”
Bronwyn wrenched her neck to the side. When she turned her face toward him again, he saw her eyes were glistening. “This is why I never wanted us to run into each other. Because I knew we’d get to this point. I knew it would come up.”
“What? What happened?”