“But the path branches.” I falter. A lookout here, a picnic spot there. Dozens of adventures that we wore into the dirt one summer at a time.
“Trust me,” he says, starting forward again. But even the words make me uneasy.
“Maybe you should trust yourself. About that night, I mean,” I say as casually as I can. “You tried to stop the fire. What else could you do?”
He glances at me briefly. “I wasn’t entirely fair to Emily, was I?” His voice is hollow, his expression flat.
“By choosing Mila over her? That didn’t kill her.”
“I certainly hope not.”
“You did sleep with her, though?” I ask abruptly.
“We were all so close,” he says in a quiet, very un-Chase-like voice. “Don’t you think it started to get weird?”
“How?”
“You and Kennedy. Ryan on the periphery. Emily. Me. For years we were all like family and then suddenly—” He snaps his fingers. “Boom goes the dynamite.” He pauses. “I loved Emily like a sister. Sometimes you confuse different types of love.”
I wish I could have told Ryan that. Before he got so angry. “But you did love her?”
“Why are you pushing this?” He gives me an odd look.
“I just think it’s weird. You had a girlfriend. Emily turned up dead.”
“Jesus, Chelsea.”
“Mila was here, and you slept with Emily.” I look into his eyes. “You messed up. Everyone messes up and you did too. Say it, Chase.”
He stares at me for a moment. “Okay. I did.Butthere was nothing sinister about it. If you want to accuse me of something, carpe diem.”
“I don’t. I just wanted to—”
“Ask me about my motive,” he finishes. “Well, there you go. And if you’re curious why I didn’t run into a burning building to save my girlfriend, it’s because by that point it was physically impossible. I don’t know how it all went up so fast, but it did. I hope that’s an acceptable excuse?”
“Yes. Sorry. Of course.”
“Now can I ask you something? Why exactly do you have so many questions about the fire? I mean, I get that everyone has blank spots. We were in different rooms, there was smokeinhalation, sleep, no one exactlyseesa gas leak. And it does seem the Hartfords did quite a job keeping the details under lock and key. But you really seem to know nothing. Like Jon Snow nothing.” He looks at me expectantly. Suspiciously?
I edge around him uncomfortably. “I know what I witnessed. None of the rest of you saw what I saw. They told me I have post-traumatic stress disorder with severe insomnia and panic attacks. I have these intrusive thoughts. Like…” I push forward, head down, avoiding his gaze as he tightens his pace to match my stride. “Little movies of terrible things happening that just run on a loop. The theory was, the more I knew, the more intrusive thoughts I’d have, and the more detailed they would be. And the more panic attacks. And I’d think I was dying every day. And I wouldn’t sleep. Which is all true. Kennedy asked me why I never sought this information out. Why I didn’t ask my parents or a doctor or just read a newspaper. What happened in the fire.” I take a deep breath. “But the truth is, I was in a scary place, Chase. I’m not magically better, but things were worse. They were a lot worse. And being back here… the not knowing is hurting me too.” I stop and catch my breath.
He reaches out to me and pulls me into a bear hug. “When I say I didn’t leave my room… I couldn’t. I was so afraid something would happen. How… much can you handle now?”
“All of it. I have to. And then just take it one day at a time, you know?”
He puts an arm around me and we continue on. “Exactly. We don’t need to hear all the details in a single night. As for me, to be honest, I might not have caught much more newscoverage than you from my pizza cave. I didn’t even hear about the gas leak, although I bet that makes Mila nervous.”
“Because—” I mime lighting a cigarette.
He nods. “Exactly.”
“You don’t think she…?”
“I know she didn’t.” He sets his jaw stubbornly.
“Kennedy thinks she wasn’t invited. Do you think she would just show up?”
He looks at me. “Mila is always invited. I’m not leaving her behind ever again.”