Dexter had to go. Tiffany and I, out of options, walked back outside. The California sun felt angry, blinding. By the time we reached the curb, I was limping from the blisters the shoes were giving me.
Tiffany noticed. “Wait here,” she said. “I’ll get the car.”
I took off the pumps. Away from Manning, Dexter, and Tiffany, my nose tingled as tears leaked from my eyes. Guilt weighed on my shoulders. I never would’ve jumped in the lake if I’d known how his sister had died. I never would’ve gotten in the truck if I’d known an innocent man could end up in jail. I’d made some huge mistakes, and I didn’t even have the luxury of reaping the punishment myself. The man I’d hurt, the man I loved, had to do it for me. If anyone deserved to be led away into that ominous back room, it was me.
Tiffany’s BMW pulled up to the curb. When I didn’t move, she rolled down the passenger’s side window. “Get in.”
Barefoot, I crossed the pavement and slid in next to her.
We sat in silence a few moments, her staring through the windshield, me out my window at nothing but the building’s beige stucco walls and chipped brown roof.
Tiffany turned off the car.
I looked over at her. “What’re you doing?” I asked.
She kept her gaze forward. “Did you have sex with him?”
My mouth went dry as the car shrunk around us. Sunlight harshened a film of dust on the dashboard. “What?”
She turned to me. My sister’s eyes were as familiar as anything in my life, but I didn’t remember them ever being the glacial shade of blue they were now. “I saw you get into his truck that night. So did you?”
“No.” My voice shook. It never occurred to me someone might’ve seen, least of all her. That’d been over three days ago, and she hadn’t said a word about it. “I swear, I didn’t. All we did was go for a drive.”
“Why should I believe you?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Tiffany. We drove around and came back. He didn’t burglarize any house. We didn’t . . .”
“Say it.”
“We didn’t have sex.”
She grabbed the baggie of Manning’s things from the console and threw it at my feet. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with his shit?”
I picked it up, the keys jangling. “I . . . I don’t know. He has no one else. I guess we—”
She snatched it from me. “There is no we. Are you going to go to a landlord and explain this? You can’t even drive.” Her voice broke. “He wouldn’t even talk to me in there. He only had a few seconds, but you took them. All he said to me was ‘your sister needs you.’”
There was nothing else to say. How could I ever explain what the last five weeks had been for me and Manning? That I’d felt justified in the decisions I’d made to try to keep him for myself? “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry won’t get him out of prison.” She started the car. “Look what you’ve done, Lake. You made a colossal mistake, and now my boyfriend has to pay the price.”
We pulled away from the curb. I watched the courthouse in the side mirror until it disappeared—gone, just like summer. Just like Manning.
I stared at nothing in the reflection long after we’d driven away, until I could no longer see through my tears.
Tiffany’s words played over and over in my head.
Look what you’ve done, Lake.