“She did that?” Mari asked, her eyes going wide.
Marc nodded, not particularly fond of this latest example of his sister’s reckless bravery. “She won the Army Medal of Honor for it. Thank God, she’s been transferred to Germany, far from active battle.”
“You must worry about her a lot,” Mari said as she took a step closer.
“Like you do about Ryan,” he murmured.
A hush fell over them. A robin twittered in the distance.
“I’m sorry about the way you found out about Ryan and me fighting after the trial all those years ago,” he said.
She glanced up at him, her sad, sober gaze tearing at him a little.
“You weren’t there, Mari. To say emotions were running high during the court proceedings is a huge understatement.”
“You and Ryan used to be so close,” she whispered. “Sometimes…” She stared at the narrow opening to the blue lake and made a hissing sound of frustration. “What?”
She shook her head. “I just wish the crash had never happened.”
“You’re still angry about it.”
Her gaze shot to meet his. “I didn’t say that!”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if you were. Who wouldn’t be angry about having their parents unexpectedly stolen from them one stormy summer night?”
He saw her throat convulse as she swallowed. He realized he was holding his breath when she took another step toward him in the cool water.
“My parents weren’t the only thing I lost,” she whispered.
Desire sliced through him as he looked down at her face. He held himself on a tight leash, but he didn’t want Mari to know that. Not at that moment, he didn’t.
“If you’re referring to me, I’m standing right here,” he replied.
She started, blinked and looked away. “I was referring to you. But I was referring to more than that. I was thinking of my childhood. My security. My belief that everything would always be the same…. That even when things got bad, I’d wake up the next day, and everything would be fresh and new. I lost all of that, that summer,” she said softly.
“We all did.”
“I know,” she said quickly. “I know it. I meant to tell you that the other night in the parking lot, but things got out of hand so fast. I never blamed you, Marc. Never. How could I?”
He shrugged. “Other people managed to. It’s human nature. When the perpetrator of the crime dies along with the victims, people look to the family. Blame has to be cast somewhere.”
“But that’s ridiculous!”
“I’m not saying it isn’t. But people need to do something with their anger, with their helplessness.” He shrugged. “I see it all the time in my work. Victims need to find a target for their angst. My mother has lived with that refrain for fifteen years. In the beginning, she got nasty phone calls, hate mail, pranks were pulled. People in town ostracized her. Some of them still do. It hasn’t been an easy road for her. People say she should have been harder on my dad about his drinking. Maybe one of us kids should have stopped him somehow. Maybe I should have. I was old enough. That was what my opponent for the State’s Attorney position thought…and made a point of mentioning about a dozen times during the campaign,” he added wryly under his breath.
“You’re kidding.”
He shrugged and glanced away. In all honesty, he’d repeatedly wondered if he might have done something to prevent the crash.
“You were twenty-one years old,” she whispered. “Please tell me you don’t actually believe any of those allegations.”
“No. I don’t,” he said after a moment. “My dad was responsible for his actions. Does that mean those criticisms didn’t eat at me at times? Of course not. It’s natural to wonder how you could have done things differently.”
“How could you have known what your father was going to do on that night? You had your own lif
e. You hardly were thinking about Derry any more than I was thinking of my parents at the time.”
She’d spoken in a pressured rush. Marc recognized the moment she realized what she’d just said. Color rushed into her cheeks.