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“It’s embarrassing.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, sweet girl. It’s just us, together. Nature. Life.” I press my forehead to hers. “But let me clean you up, if it makes you feel better.”

“Thank you.”

I soap down her beautiful body, clean between her thighs, then I turn her around again to wash her hair and rake conditioner through it with my fingers. I want her to feel spoiled and pampered. I know nothing I ever say or do will make up for the lie I let her believe, but that doesn’t stop me from trying.

Once we’re both clean, we climb out of the shower. I wrap her in a big, fluffy towel and towel dry her hair. Then wrap a towel around my own waist and pick up my clothes from the floor.

“Just give me a minute, okay?” she asks.

“Sure.”

I leave her in the bathroom and quickly remake her bed for her with the new sheets. She emerges from the bathroom, still in the towel. She sees the freshly made bed and drops into it, curling onto her side and tucking her hands up under her chin.

“Can I get you some Advil?”

“If you’ve got it.” Her voice is sleepy and I’m not sure she’ll be awake by the time I bring it back to her.

I return with a hot water bottle, some warm cocoa, and the Advil I’d promised.

“Stay with me, Blake.”

My heart sings. “Whatever you want.”

I climb onto the bed with her, curling myself around her.

Does this mean I’m forgiven? I dare not even bring it up in case she says no. Whatever fragile truce has happened feels as thin as paper, and I don’t want to do or say anything to ruin it.

25

ASPEN

It feels good to have Blake wrapped around me, but the fact is that nothing has changed. I still feel as though I can’t trust him, and I have more questions than answers about this place and the men in it.

“Did Dov have anything to do with my sister going missing?” I ask Blake.

I’m aware of my abrupt turn of emotion. The one-eighty swing. Is it because I’m hormonal? Or is it more because I don’t care as much about upsetting him as I used to? I’m not worried about playing the good girl or protecting his ego.

The fact is, Blake and my father’s relationship seemed to start coming apart at the seams not long after my sister vanished, and Blake said himself that they’d fallen out over his son. I now know about Dov’s capacity for violence. While I don’t want to think him capable of hurting my sister, I need to put that nagging thought to rest.

He jerks back, shocked. “No, Pen. How could you ask me something like that?”

I shrug. “I think it’s a reasonable question considering everything that’s happened.”

It had been so long ago, and I’d been young. My memories of that time are fractured. I remember the emotion of it more than anything. The parts I can remember are like tiny reels of time. I don’t know why some moments stand out more than others. It’s not as though the bits I remember seem any more important.

Putting up flyers on lampposts and staring at the lettering on the paper and guessing at what it said, my big sister’s smiling face peering back at me.

Blake and my dad talking in low, hushed voices and stopping instantly the moment I walked in, plastering fake smiles on their faces.

Looking into an empty refrigerator and wondering if we were going to have sandwiches for dinner again.

Sipping too-tart lemonade that our neighbor had insisted on giving me, her eyes so sad on my behalf that I hadn’t been able to say no.

After my sister had gone missing, a lot about life had felt fake. It had been as though we were all just pretending to be the same people we had been before when absolutely nothing was the same.

“Well, he didn’t. He never even met her. I swear it.”