Hanna scoffed. “The guy you’re working with.”
Naomi stared at Hanna as though an extra eyeball had sprouted on her forehead. “Gee, Hanna, you’re totally right. Me and Graham, whoever that is, followed you in my secret, super-fast spy boat and then sank your boat so you could die. We’re both complete monsters.”
Yes, you are, Hanna thought weakly, still shivering under the towel. You’re monsters called A.
But something was strange. There was no knowing smile on Naomi’s lips. No bemused expression. No wide-eyed, you-caught-me gasp. Instead, she was shaking her head at Hanna like she was crazy.
Hanna’s mouth tasted salty, and when she breathed in, her lungs felt raspy and raw. Maybe it was the fact that she was exhausted, or maybe it was the fact that they’d decided to confess about Tabitha, but nothing seemed to matter much anymore. As Hanna stared at Naomi, she felt brave. “I know you know,” she said.
Naomi frowned. “What?”
“You know.” Hanna spoke more forcefully. “I know that you know I drove Madison home the night of the accident. I wasn’t drunk, but a car came out of nowhere, pushing me off the road, and I crashed into a tree. I know that you know I moved Madison to the driver’s seat and left so I wouldn’t get in trouble. You and Madison figured it out, didn’t you?”
Naomi’s hands went limp in her lap, and her face grew pale. “What?”
Hanna took a breath and then glanced at Jeremy, who was talking to the captain. Why did Naomi seem so surprised? Her e-mails with Madison indicated they knew the truth. And her A notes made it clear she knew everything. And yet there she was, her face pale, her eyes darting back and forth, her hands trembling.
It felt like someone had reached into Hanna’s mind and tilted everything ninety degrees. Was it possible she was wrong about Naomi?
“You … didn’t know?” Hanna asked.
Naomi slowly shook her head. Hanna turned away and stared at the moon overhead, then at a fishing sticker on the side of the boat, then at Jeremy’s stupid sunglasses, trying to hold onto something stable and knowable. If Naomi didn’t know Hanna had been with Madison, then she had no reason to be after Hanna. And if she had no reason to be after Hanna, why was she A?
Was she A?
It felt like someone had just told her the sky was green, the water orange. Hanna looked at Naomi. She seemed as vulnerable and disarmed as she had during karaoke, or at the club, or at the gym when she’d begged Hanna to hang out. A single tear rolled down her cheek. She bit on her bottom lip over and over again until it was red and raw.
Hanna clapped a hand over her mouth. All at once, she felt sick with remorse. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “I thought you knew everything.”
Naomi’s eyes blazed. Her lips twitched, and she clenched and unclenched her fists, as though she were considering throwing a punch. But after a moment, she shut her eyes and sighed. “No, Hanna. I didn’t know.”
“I’m really sorry,” Hanna whispered.
Naomi stared at her. “You think sorry cuts it?”
“But I am,” Hanna protested. “It’s not like I meant for any of it to happen. Madison was barely able to stand up when she left the bar. That’s why I drove her home—I was afraid something awful might happen if I didn’t. And you said yourself that the crash was, in a weird way, a good thing—it got her straight.”
Naomi looked at Hanna in horror. “My God, Hanna. I would have preferred the crash had never happened at all.”
Hanna shut her eyes, suddenly realizing how idiotic she sounded. “Of course,” she whispered.
Naomi pressed her fingers to her temples. “I have half a mind to call the cops right when we get home and tell them everything. My cousin used to like to play field hockey on the weekends, did you know that? Now she’ll never be able to again. She’ll probably always walk with a limp. She went to grueling physical therapy for months, which racked up a ton of bills for my aunt and uncle. I should make you pay them. Or maybe your rich father.”
Hanna opened her mouth and shut it again. She had no defense. Naomi was totally right.
“That accident caused a lot of anguish for all of us,” Naomi hissed, her cheeks flushed. “It was torture when we weren’t sure if Madison was going to pull through. And you think you can just say you’re sorry and be done with it?”
“I shouldn’t have said that.” Hanna hung her head. “You can tell the police about me if you want. And your parents. And Madison. They deserve to know the truth.”