A Bend in the Road - By Nicholas Sparks Page 0,103

drifting over the center line....

“Sarah didn’t know,” Brian finally offered into the silence. “Sarah didn’t know about any of it.”

Over the wind, Brian wasn’t sure if Miles could hear him, but he had to try. He knew this was the last chance he would get to speak to Miles without other people around. Whatever lawyer his father would arrange for him would advise him to say nothing more than he had already said. And Miles, he suspected, would be ordered to stay away from him.

But Miles had to know the truth about Sarah. Not so much for the future—as Brian saw it, they had no chance at all—but because he couldn’t bear the thought of Miles believing that Sarah had known all along. He didn’t want Miles to hate her. Sarah, above everyone, didn’t deserve that. Unlike Miles or him, Sarah hadn’t had any part in this at all.

“She never told me who she was seeing. I was away at school and I didn’t find out until Thanksgiving that it was you. But I didn’t tell her about the accident until yesterday. She didn’t know anything until then. I know you don’t want to believe me....”

“You think I should believe you?” Miles shot back.

“She didn’t know anything,” Brian repeated. “I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

“What would you lie about, then?”

Brian regretted the words as soon as he’d said them and felt the chill cut through him as he imagined his answer. Going to the funeral. His dreams. Watching Jonah at school. Stalking Miles at his home . . .

Brian shook his head slightly, forcing the thought away. “Sarah didn’t do anything wrong,” he said instead, avoiding the question.

But Miles persisted. “Answer me,” he said. “What would you lie about? The dog, maybe?”

“No.”

“Missy didn’t jump in front of your car.”

“She didn’t mean to. She couldn’t help it. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just happened. It was an accident.”

“No, it wasn’t!” Miles boomed, wheeling around. Despite the roar of the wind from the open windows, the sound seemed to ricochet in the car. “You weren’t paying attention and you ran her down!”

“No,” Brian insisted. He was less afraid of Miles than he knew he should be. He felt calm, like an actor reciting his lines by rote. No fear. Just a sense of profound exhaustion. “It happened just like I told you.”

Miles pointed his finger at Brian, halfway turned in his seat now. “You killed her and you ran!”

“No—I stopped and I looked for her. And when I found her . . .” Brian trailed off.

In his mind he saw Missy, lying in the ditch, her body angled wrong. Staring up at him.

Staring at nothing.

“I felt sick, like I was going to die, too.” Brian paused, turning away from Miles. “I covered her up with a blanket,” he whispered. “I didn’t want anyone else to see her that way.”

Bennie Wiggins finally found a song he wanted. The glare was intense and he sat straight in his seat just as he realized where he was on the road. He righted the van, guiding it back in his lane.

The approaching car was close now.

He still didn’t see it.

Miles flinched when Brian mentioned the blanket, and for the first time Brian knew that he was really listening, despite his shouts to the contrary. Brian kept talking, oblivious to Miles, oblivious to the cold.

Oblivious to the fact that Miles’s attention was focused entirely on him and not on the road.

“I should have called then, that night, after I got home. It was wrong. There’s no excuse for it, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did to you and I’m sorry for what I did to Jonah.”

To Brian, his voice sounded as if it belonged to someone else.

“I didn’t know that keeping it inside was worse. It ate away at me. I know you don’t want to believe that, but it did. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat—”

“I don’t care!”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And I’ve never stopped thinking about it. I even bring flowers to Missy’s grave....”

Bennie Wiggins finally saw the car as he rounded a bend in the road.

It was happening so fast, it almost didn’t seem real. The car was headed right at him, jumping from slow motion to full speed with terrifying inevitability. Bennie’s mind clicked into overdrive, trying frantically to process the information.

No, that couldn’t be. ... Why would he be driving in my lane? That doesn’t make sense. ... But he is driving in my lane. Doesn’t