Chapter 4: No More Guesses

"Put the phone down," I said.

Mara kept it pointed at my face.

"Come on, Willa. Say something for the video. You look so serious."

"Put it down, or I'll walk back up that hill and you can film the door."

She lowered it, still smiling, and tapped the screen.

"Fine. Spoilsport."

Cillian looked at me.

I gave him a small nod.

He turned to my parents. "There's fresh coffee in the main house. Come in and sit down."

Mom hesitated.

Dad took her by the elbow and went.

Mara and I walked down the first row of vines, side by side, with the skirt of her gown dragging in the dirt.

When the house was a hundred yards behind us, I stopped.

She stopped too.

"You're not even a little bit angry at me," she said. "I can tell. You're angry at Thurston, and Darrell, and Mom. Not me."

"That's wrong."

"Is it?" She picked a leaf off the vine and turned it over. "I only planned it. They all did what they wanted."

"You ran the chat."

"I made a chat. People talk in chats."

"You ordered lilies."

"I like lilies."

"I break out in hives from them, Mara. You know that. You've known since you were thirteen."

She looked at me for a moment with her head tipped.

"It was only going to be for one afternoon," she said.

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