Chapter 8
Eight
Emma had never been a big fan of board games.
Growing up, when she had free time, she preferred to read, getting lost in a great book.
She could escape her ordinary life as half of a double act and traverse the world as an independent woman.
She’d never wanted separation from her sister but enjoyed those stolen moments of living out another version of herself and her life.
Until she lost her sister and then she hated herself for ever wanting to be alone.
Spending the next several hours in her bunk with Margaux and Daniel, playing round after round of Clue, however, she started to understand the appeal. The company was friendly, and many laughs were shared. She needed the levity.
Would she ever forget the anguish and grief in the Thomases’ faces after learning the terrible tragedy of their son’s death?
Her parents hadn’t spoken or raged after losing Liz.
They’d bottled everything up, becoming almost as silent as the grave.
In the years that followed, they became even more shut up, closing in on themselves.
Emma had done the same, shying away from any discussion about her sister until she moved to a place where no one knew Liz.
Watching the Thomases process the news, she wasn’t glad for her parents’ quiet acceptance in the face of such passionate denial.
Instead, she marveled at how many different ways humans responded to the unthinkable.
“I am ready to make my determination,” Margaux announced. “Miss Scarlet in the conservatory by garrote.”
Daniel met Emma’s gaze, his mouth slack for a brief moment.
“Well, that’s a word you don’t hear every day,” Emma said, forcing a chuckle. “Your education must have been top-notch.”
Margaux blushed. “I mean rope.”
The screen door opened, rusty hinges squealing.
“Are you seriously still playing that?” Christine asked, entering the bunk with Jennifer.
Margaux turned red.
Through her experience in helping teens, Emma had witnessed first-hand the dangerous outcomes to a person’s physical and mental health due to a poor sense of self. She wanted to lift Margaux up or at least stop her constant put-downs. She’d start with redirection.
Emma shrugged. “Sure. It’s been fun. I haven’t played a board game in years. Where have you two been today?”
“Oh, you know. Here, there, and everywhere,” Jennifer replied, adding in a tense laugh and swinging her arms in large, sweeping gestures. Her arm hit an empty bunk. “Ouch.” She winced.
An object landed on the ground with a jingling thud.
“Are you okay?” Emma asked, assessing Jennifer’s self-deprecating grin.
A metallic glint caught Emma’s vision. On her knees, she crawled over to the bunk and reached under the bed. Her fingers slipped over the dusty, pine floorboards. Her nose itched, and her eyes watered. She closed her grip around the object and pulled it free.
“Don’t lose your keys.” Emma dangled the fob.
“Those aren’t mine.” Jennifer and Christine shook their heads in unison.
The immediacy of the response stunned Emma.
She hated that her first reaction to their hurried words was searching for guilt in their expressions.
She would rather imagine her friends trying to conceal something by denying ownership versus the alternative.
Some unknown person had crept into their cabin and dropped the keys.
“Strange to find keys in here. I’d better take these up to the lost and found,” Emma said slowly, not quite sure which answer she wanted and but knowing that riling anyone up helped no one.
“Can I see those?” Margaux asked. “Oh. Those are mine.”
You didn’t drive here. Emma couldn’t open her mouth. Nor could she meet Daniel’s gaze. He hadn’t spoken a word. He was in observation mode.
“From home,” Margaux explained.
Christine shot Emma a look of annoyance. “Should we get dinner? I’m starving.”
“Sure.” Emma stood, brushing her hands on her jeans and striding forward to loop her arms through Jennifer and Christine. “Let’s go.”
The trio headed out the cabin door first, Emma’s abrupt departure giving them a few minutes head start on the path. Margaux would insist on putting every piece of the board game away carefully. Emma was counting on that.
Daniel needed time to chat with Margaux. And until they’d walked into the cabin, Emma hadn’t realized how much she had to ask Jennifer and Christine. Emma wouldn’t admonish the pair for how they treated Margaux. Emma would lead by example there. She had a bigger question.
“Where did you really go today?” Emma murmured, keeping her voice low in case of any interested ears nearby.
“The top of the hill,” Christine said.
Where Liz had slipped. Emma held her breath.
“Sorry, Emma,” Christine said. “We didn’t go to be macabre.”
“And it wasn’t intentional,” Jennifer added. “We started looking for cell coverage.”
“Yes,” Christine added, nodding. “I had a big week at work and was wanting to see if any other emails or calls came in. I’m on vacation at the worst possible time. I wanted an update or warning about what I’ll be returning to. We wandered around looking for full bars and…”
“Ended up there,” Emma murmured. “It’s fine. How does it…?”
“Not as scary or as steep as I remember,” Christine said. “I almost…can’t believe she fell.”
Emma nodded. The reunion wouldn’t only stoke her memories and force new questions, others would revisit the same experiences and make sense of what happened from their mature, adult perspectives, too.
“And our families called,” Jennifer chimed in. “They’re having a grand time. Nothing like summer in the Midwest.”
As the trio neared the mess hall, they were greeted with a flurry of activity. Cars were loaded and pulled away, campers hugged and parted. After only a night, the reunion had ended.
“What’s happening here?” Jennifer asked. “Already getting a head start on the end of the week talent show?”
Christine snorted. “I am not dancing again. No way, no how.”
Jennifer and Christine chortled.
Emma cringed. She hated to dampen their joy. The day had been overwhelming and emotional. She yearned to join in a bit of levity. But she couldn’t. She motioned her head to the side and the pair frowned but followed her a few feet off the path.
“Owen died at the hospital earlier today. I’m guessing most people are packing up and heading out, giving the Thomases space for their grief.” Emma lowered her voice, fighting to keep it steady. “Mrs. Thomas made an announcement a few hours ago. While you were out.”
Jennifer and Christine gasped. Christine raised her hands to cover her mouth.
Jennifer drew together her eyebrows in a picture of stoic determination. “Is that what they want? Have they asked us to leave?”
“No. Not that I’m aware.” Emma took in a deep, gulping breath. “Mrs. Thomas invited everyone to stay through the weekend. They’ll be busy with arrangements. I think the whole situation has brought up too many similarities for a lot of people. I can’t blame anyone.”
Christine stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Emma.
The unexpected embrace held more than comfort. Grief and concern gripped Emma’s shoulders along with care. “How are you handling this?” Christine asked, stepping away but keeping a hand on Emma’s back, rubbing in a circle like a mother would do.
Emma studied her friends, seeing the depths of the adult women they had become.
The pair weren’t silly girls anymore but mature wives and devoted mothers.
They knew how to look after someone. She hadn’t realized how much she needed their attention until they gave it to her.
“I’m heartbroken about what has happened.
But if you mean, is this stirring up anything, the answer is no. ”
“Thank goodness for that,” Jennifer said, relief sagging her shoulders.
“I’m not grateful,” Emma replied. “I came to this reunion to try to get my memories back, to reclaim a bit of who I was back then. To make myself whole.”
“Have you?” Christine asked.
Emma shook her head.
“Maybe you’re protecting yourself by forgetting,” Jennifer added. “Sometimes the past must be left behind.”
Emma didn’t agree, not when she’d been living for the last two decades without the complete sense of who she was. With Owen’s death, she lost the last real chance she had for understanding what happened that night. The killer wasn’t likely to answer her questions before taking her out.
“What do you want to do?” Christine asked.
“I want to stay for Owen’s funeral, help the Thomases where I can. The camp is probably closing. This might be our last visit here.” And the final opportunity for closure.
“Did the Thomases say they were selling?” A line formed between Jennifer’s brows.
“No,” Emma replied. She wasn’t sure what to make from Jennifer’s cagey reaction to the news. “Why?”
Jennifer lifted a shoulder. “It would be a shame for the forest to be developed. Can you imagine how many secrets are buried out here?”
An uneasy silence settled over them.
Jennifer wasn’t always the most empathetic person. The conversational slip bugged Emma after what she had shared.
“Well, if you’re going to stay for the funeral. Then that’s what we’ll do, too,” Christine agreed, patting Emma’s hand. Her stomach growled, the sound more snarl than rumble.
“Any chance that dinner is still being served?” Emma asked.
The trio continued down the path.
Emma forced a laugh as much in response to the awkward situation as an attempt to lighten the mood. She felt cold to her bones.
They entered the almost empty mess hall. Only a handful of tables remained occupied. How many of those would still be present in the morning?