“It was,” I say, my voice quiet.

I expect Becca to backtrack a bit or maybe offer a better apology. Instead, she doubles down. Squaring her shoulders, she flashes me a hard look and says, “Come on, Emma. You don’t need to pretend around me. Vivian doesn’t automatically become a good person just because of what happened to her. I mean, you of all people should know that.”

She stands and brushes dirt from her shorts. Then she walks away, slowly, silently, not looking back. I remain where I am, contemplating the two truths Becca just revealed to me.

The first is that she’s right. Vivian wasn’t a good person. Vanishing into thin air doesn’t change that.

The second is that Becca remembers much more than she’d like to admit.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO

The beach at Camp Nightingale—a combination of sand and pebbles strewn along a patch of Lake Midnight decades earlier—felt as uncomfortable as it looked. Not even spreading two towels on top of each other could completely dull the prodding of the stones below. Still, I grinned and tried to bear it as I watched waves of campers tiptoe into the water.

Although all four of us had changed into our bathing suits, only Natalie and Allison joined the others in the lake. Natalie swam like the natural athlete she was, using hard, long strokes to easily make it to the string of foam buoys marking the area no one was allowed to swim past. Allison was more of a show-off, somersaulting in the water like a synchronized swimmer.

I remained on shore, nervous in my modest one-piece swimsuit. Vivian sat behind me, coating my shoulders with Coppertone, its coconut scent sickeningly sweet.

“It’s criminal how pretty you are,” she said.

“I don’t feel pretty.”

“But you are,” Vivian said. “Hasn’t your mother ever told you that?”

“My mother gives me as little attention as possible. Same thing with my dad.”

Vivian clucked with sympathy. “That sounds just like my parents. I’m surprised I didn’t die of neglect as a newborn. But my sister and I learned how to fend for ourselves. She’s the one who made me realize how pretty I was. Now I’ll do the same for you.”

“I’m far from pretty.”

“You are,” Vivian insisted. “And in a year or two, you’ll be gorgeous. I can tell. Do you have a boyfriend back home?”

I shook my head, knowing how I was all but invisible to the boys in my neighborhood. I was among the last of the late bloomers. Flat as cardboard. No one paid attention to cardboard.

“That’ll change,” Vivian said. “You’ll snag yourself a hottie like Theo.”

She gestured to the lifeguard stand a few feet away, where Theo sat in red swim trunks, the whistle roped around his neck nestled in his chest hair. Every time I looked at him, which was often, I tried not to think about that morning at the latrine. Watching him. Wanting him. Instead, it was all I could think about.

“Why aren’t you in the water?” he called down to us.

“No reason,” Vivian said.

“I don’t know how to swim,” I said.

A grin spread across Theo’s face. “That’s quite a coincidence. One of my goals today is to teach someone.”

He hopped down from the lifeguard stand and, before I could protest, took my hand and led me to the water. I paused when my feet touched the mossy rocks at the lake’s edge. They were slick, which made me worry that I’d slip and plunge under. The dirty look of the water only heightened my anxiety. Bits of brown stuff floated just below the surface. When some touched my ankle, I recoiled.

Theo tightened his grip around my hand. “Relax. A little algae never hurt anyone.”

He guided me deeper into the lake, the water rising against me in increments. To my knees. Then to my thighs. Soon I was up to my waist, the chill of the water leaving me momentarily breathless. Or maybe it wasn’t the water. Maybe it was the way Theo’s broad shoulders glowed in the late June sun. Or the way his crooked smile widened when I took another, unprompted step deeper into the water.

“Awesome, Em,” he said. “You’re doing great. But you need to relax more. The water is your friend. Let it hold you up.”

Without warning, he slid behind me and scooped me up in his arms. One wrapped around my back. The other slid behind my knees. The areas where his skin touched mine became instantly hot, as if electricity coursed through them.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

I closed them as he lowered me into the lake until I couldn’t tell the difference between his arms and the water. When I opened my eyes, I saw him standing next to me, arms crossed. I was on my own, letting the water hold me up.

Theo grinned, his eyes sparkling. “You, my dear, are floating.”

Just then, noise rippled across the lake. Splashing. Urgent and panicked. A couple of girls in the deep end began to shriek, their arms flapping against the water like ducks unable to take flight. Beyond them, I saw a pair of hands rising and falling from the lake’s surface, waving frantically, water flinging off the fingertips. A face poked out of the drink, gasped, slipped back under.

Vivian.

Theo left my side and surged toward her. Without him near me, I sank into the water, dropping until I hit the lake bed. I began to paddle, guided by instinct more than anything else, clawing at the water until my nose and mouth broke the surface. I continued to paddle and kick until, lo and behold, I was swimming.