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I wait a full five minutes after Chet leaves before diving back into Vivian’s diary. It stays under my pillow as I count the seconds. I’m not worried about him returning to interrupt me once again. It’s more of a moment to decompress after what he said about Theo. Even though he told me not to beat myself up, I can’t help it.
Theo spent six months in rehab. Probably at the same time I was being treated for my own problems. Our first years after Camp Nightingale were almost identical. The only difference was the demons we faced.
Mine looked like Vivian.
Theo’s looked like me.
Again, I know I can’t repair the damage I’ve caused him. That opportunity passed fifteen years ago. But I can prevent further damage if I find out more about what happened to Vivian, Natalie, and Allison. He’ll no longer have suspicion trailing after him like a shadow.
He’ll be free.
And if it happens to him, it could also happen to me.
When the five minutes have elapsed, I remove Vivian’s diary from under my pillow, flip to where I had left off, and dive in once more.
June 29,
It turns out I was right. Lottie told F, who pulled me aside after lunch and basically went apeshit on me. She threatened to call The Senator, as if he’d fucking care. She also said I needed to respect personal boundaries. I felt like telling her to shove those personal boundaries up her dusty twat. I didn’t because I need to keep my head down. I can’t rock that damn boat until it must be capsized.
So, to recap:
Bad news: She definitely suspects something.
Good news: I’m close to finding out her dirty little secret.
July 1,
I’m thinking about telling Emma.
Someone needs to know in case something happens to me.
July 2,
Well, that sucked.
I decided not to tell Em the whole truth about what I’m doing. It’s safer for her that way. Instead, I opted to hint at it by taking her to my secret stash in the woods. You guessed it, THE BOX. The thing that started this whole investigation when I found it last summer.
I thought showing it to Emma would spark her interest, just in case the Magic 8 Ball lied and all signs actually point to getting my sorry ass booted from camp. That way she can continue what I started, if she’s so inclined. And I was right. It DID spark her interest. I saw it in her eyes as soon as she opened that box.
But then the bad stuff had to take place. Yep, I showed her that I could swim. I thought she should know, for several reasons. One: If, God forbid, my body washes up on the beach one morning, she’ll be able to tell police that I’m an expertswimmer. Two: She needs to learn not to trust everything everyone tells her. Two Truths and a Lie isn’t just a game. For most people, it’s a lifestyle. Three: I’ll need to break her heart eventually. Might as well put a crack in it now.
So now she’s pissed at me. Rightly so. She spent the rest of the day ignoring me. And it hurt like a motherfucker. There’s so much I want to tell her. That life is hard. That you need to punch it before it punches you.
I know she’s hurt. I know she thinks she’s the only one whose parents ignore her. But she should try being left behind in New York while The Senator and Mrs. Senator go off to DC two months after her sister dies! Now that’s abandonment.
As for the fake drowning, I had to do it. Hopefully Em will only pout a day. I’ll give her flowers tomorrow and she’ll love me again.
July 3,
Fun fact: In the 1800s, women could be sent to asylums for these reasons:
Hysteria
Immoral life
Jealousy