on his feet, stripping off his gardening gloves, discarding them on the ground, and coming to her with open arms.
“You didn’t have to come out here. I would’ve come to you.”
“I was out already.” Allie hadn’t told him about Kyle’s mother yet. She would’ve called on the way over, but she’d been too upset and hadn’t wanted him to hear her that way without explanation. After all, she was about to give him the shock of his life.
“My God, you were almost killed! And Larry, too! What’s going on?” Her father hugged her as soon as they met, and Allie hugged him back, trying not to cry. She wanted to keep her wits about her. She allowed herself to feel the comfort of his embrace. The sun felt warm on her back, seeping into her bones. Birds chirped in the trees, and the scene was so peaceful she hated to disrupt it, but there was no putting it off.
“Dad, I have a lot to tell you,” Allie said, releasing him.
“Yes, yes, of course. Let’s go inside. I have iced tea, homemade.”
“No, let’s stay. We can sit here.” Allie swallowed hard. Somehow it felt right, to be among nature, near her mother’s garden and her father’s handiwork. When Jill was alive, they used to eat dinner outside in the garden, on the pretty wrought-iron table with a glass top. It was still there, in front of the hydrangeas, though after that summer, they’d never eaten outside again.
“The glass is dirty. I could Windex it.”
“It’s fine. Let’s just sit.” Allie pulled out the chair, which caught on the manicured grass, but sat down, and her father sat next to her, resting his skinny forearm on the glass, its surface dulled from years of rain.
“Are you in pain? Do you need an Advil? You know that helps with the swelling, too.”
“I’m fine. Really, Dad.” Allie braced herself.
“Honey, do you know what they said on the news? Did you hear?” Her father’s lined face collapsed in a frown. Close up, she could see that he was sweating slightly in the heat. “They said that Julian Browne’s father was found dead in New Jersey, with another man. Scott Browne was murdered. Stabbed to death.”
“Oh, no,” Allie said, horrified. She hadn’t heard. She hadn’t had the car radio on and hadn’t checked her phone.
“Doesn’t that seem strange?” Her father’s eyes narrowed. “That Julian’s father was murdered? And a young woman overdosed at Julian’s house? I forget her name, but you saw on TV. And now he tried to kill you. And Larry.”
“Okay, well, Dad, that’s connected to what I have to tell you. It’s very upsetting, but it’s about me, and, well, the summer after Jill died.”
“Okay.” Her father frowned with sympathy. “I know, you got so sad that summer. I could see it. You used to be happier, lighter, but after your mom went to the hospital, you changed.”
“No, Dad, it wasn’t Mom’s illness that changed me. It was something I did that summer. Julian was involved in it, too, but it’s about me.”
“I didn’t know you knew Julian Browne. How did you know him?”
“I didn’t, but I met him because of this thing that happened.” Her father blinked behind his glasses. “It’s a secret, and I kept it from you, Larry, and everybody. But it’s about to come out, and I want you to know about it from me. It happened in the woods by Connemara Road.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Dad—” Allie began, then hesitated. There was no going back if she told him, but she had to. “I did a terrible thing, and it changed the way I am. It changed who I am.”
“You would never do anything terrible. I never worried about you, not for a minute. You were a good girl.”
“I was until then.” Allie cringed. “See, there was a boy our age named Kyle Gallagher, and he was new. The police thought he committed suicide in the woods, alone. But I was there, and so were my friends, and we told him it was a game. Russian Roulette. We gave him a gun we found, and we didn’t think it was loaded—”
“Russian Roulette?” Her father’s hooded eyes flared with alarm. “You played Russian Roulette? You, Allie?”
“No, I didn’t, but he did, Kyle did. We told him we’d played it but we hadn’t, and I didn’t know the gun was loaded.” Allie collected herself. “Dad, just let me tell the story, and listen, okay?”
“Okay.” Her father nodded gravely, linking