his fingers on the table, and Allie began at the beginning, like she had the other two times, but it felt harder now because she was telling it to her father, whose opinion mattered so much. She told him everything, how they’d been drinking, how they’d lied to Kyle about playing Russian Roulette, then how the gun had gone off and Kyle was dead.
Allie watched his face contort with anguish, and tears filled his eyes behind his bifocals. She couldn’t stop telling the story because she knew he had to hear it, once and for all. She poured her heart out about her nightmares and flashbacks, about how she couldn’t stop the instant replays, visualizing the gun being loaded and fired. She told him how she had kept it secret until David’s suicide, when she finally couldn’t take it anymore, then about meeting with Julian and Sasha after the funeral, the Pine Barrens and Larry, and she ended with her visit to Kyle’s mother.
When Allie finished, she was shaking. “Dad, I’m so, so sorry, about all of this. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t.”
“I know, I understand.” Her father’s expression was etched with agonized lines. His knobby shoulders sagged in his plaid shirt. “But you could have told me, you should have told me.”
“I was worried you wouldn’t love me anymore,” Allie blurted out, her voice sounding childish even to herself, and her father reached over with a deep moan, hugged her close, and didn’t let go. She could feel him frail in her embrace, and they clung to each other.
“Oh, honey, I’ll always love you,” her father whispered in her ear. “But there’s something I have to tell you, too.”
CHAPTER 105
Dr. Mark Garvey
Mark inhaled, his chest tight. It hurt him to see the bruises on Allie’s face. Her broken wrist. The bruising at her throat. He should have spoken up. He should have told her. She could have been killed last night. His beloved daughter could have been murdered because of him. Allie had risked her life to find out something he had already known.
Mark met the glistening eyes of his daughter, and Allie looked like she had back then, that awful summer, the worst one of their lives. He didn’t know how to tell her what he had to tell her. He never imagined he would have to, but he hadn’t known she’d been there with Kyle Gallagher. Mark had made so many mistakes that summer.
“Dad, what is it?” Allie asked, teary and mystified.
“Honey, that was such a bad summer, you remember.”
“Right, I know.”
“I was really hoping the 5K would work out, but it was a disaster. Remember? No one came.”
“I remember.” Allie nodded.
“We had that big fight at the house later, remember? Fran called me out, and she was right about that, she really was. I failed your mother. I tried to turn it around, but it was too late.”
“You tried your best, Dad.” Allie patted his hand, and it struck Mark as such a sweet gesture, so like her.
“But my best wasn’t good enough. It really wasn’t. That weekend, it all came to a head.” Mark bit his lip, which trembled. He didn’t want to cry in front of his daughter, even now. A feeling of deepest despair washed over him, taking him right back to that day. “Remember, I had spent months on the 5K, and I think it was my way of coping with Jill’s death. Setting up the meetings, the waivers, the organizing. It was a way of avoiding my grief.”
“I knew that, Dad.” Allie’s tone was gentle.
“I coped badly, and what I did only made it worse for your mother and you. It isolated her, and you got lost in the shuffle. I told her I was looking out for you, but I wasn’t. I was trying to, but I didn’t do a good enough job. I let you down, too, and I realized it that weekend.”
“You didn’t let me down—”
“No, I did, you have to let me say this to you.” Mark twisted his wedding ring, which he still wore. “You were so upset that morning, Sunday morning, that your mom had to stay in the hospital, you were scared of losing her like you lost Jill. I knew you would be, I could see it. I knew it was my fault, I’d let her go downhill, like Fran said. I failed you, and I didn’t save your mom, and I hurt you so badly, which cut me to