Page 88 of The Five Year Lie

She lifts her chin, and the camera catches the shape of her shy smile. When he leans in for the kiss, it’s tender and sweet.

Tentatively, she closes her eyes and slides her arms around him.

He goes stock-still for a moment. I hold my breath, and then he kisses her again.

I slap the space bar and remember to take in oxygen. On the screen, a young couple is frozen in time, caught inside a moment where nothing exists in the world but each other.

Everything is still fine. But I’m afraid for them.

Once upon a time I was just like that girl. There’s magic intrusting someone. Letting another person near you is the hardest thing there is.

And if she died because of this video? I don’t even know what to do with that.

With a grim determination, I tap the space bar again. I speed up the video to triple time, because it feels less voyeuristic to watch them make out in fast-forward.

They stand there for a while, their hands wandering while they try every sort of kiss that it’s possible for the human body to accomplish. I look away from the screen, taking only periodic glances while I wait to know how this ends.

At my next glance, they’ve made it over to a rattan-like sofa with cushions on it. The boy lies on his back, the girl spread out on top of him, her hands on his cheekbones, their mouths fused together.

I nudge the video forward and see a split second of a blow job in progress.Yikes.Then I nudge it again and... cringe when I see a lot of full-on nudity. With a swift click to the X in the upper corner, I kill off the whole window.

My little carriage house is completely still, except for the drumming of my heart. It’s tempting to delete the poor girl’s video right off the thumb drive. Nobody should have their privacy invaded like this.

There are those who would blame the girl for forgetting about the camera. And sex on one’s back porch is just a terrible idea. These teens weren’t careful. They didn’t think.

But they’reteenagers. At that age, I did stupid things by the dozen, and mostly got away with them. Just lucky. Really lucky. It’s hard to live in a world where cameras are always watching.

It’s not just a teenage problem, either. Maybe we’re not wired to think like this—as if the whole world is our stalker.

I tab over to Drew’s obituary and gaze at the photo again. Once again I have the eerie sensation that I’m following him around, looking over his shoulder.

He needed to know why this girl died. And now I do, too.

Okay. I get it. You tried to do what you thought you had to do.

Did it work? Did you fix the broken things?

Or did you just accidentally break me, instead?

“Mama?”

I startle violently at the sound of Buzz’s voice. He’s standing beside my bed in his pj’s, his small face in a frown. I glance at the clock, which reads 5:04. “Are you okay? It’s not morning yet.”

He scrambles up onto my bed. “Who’s that man?”

“What?” I turn back to my screen, as if somehow it has changed. My heart begins to pound. “This man?” I point at Drew’s face.

“Yes. With the line here.” He reaches out and traces a finger down Drew’s facial scar.

Oh God.Buzz is staring at his father’s face. And I don’t know what to say. I never wanted to lie to him. But I’m not ready to try to explain his father while caught off guard in the predawn hours. “He was a very good friend,” I whisper.

And I’m a horrible mother. I’m sorry.

Buzz pauses, his short finger still on the screen. “He was Uncle Ray’s friend.”

“Hmm?” I remove Buzz’s hand, holding it in my own, as if I can erase this moment. And how badly I’m fucking this up.

“Uncle Ray has that man on his computer, too.”