Chapter 12: The Carbon

"A year," Camilla said. "You knew a year ago?"

"I found it by accident," Gemma said. "I'll tell you how. But not tonight, and not in front of him."

Camilla looked at me.

I stood and held her coat open, because I had nothing else to give her.

"Go home," I said. "Sleep. Your mother's fees are not going to stop."

"Nico..."

"Go."

She went out into the dark, and the car coughed once and pulled away down the gravel.

The boathouse was quiet.

Gemma stayed at the foot of the ladder with her arms wrapped around herself.

"Ask me," she said.

"Ask you what?"

"Anything. What you want to know."

I wanted to know everything. I found I could not choose the first question.

"A year," I said. "You said you've known those numbers a year."

"Yes."

"And you said Renzo's date was your pick."

"Yes."

"Then I want to hear all of it." My voice was low and flat. "I'd like to hear it from you."

She held my eyes for a long moment.

"Tomorrow," she said. "After I've slept, and you have. I'm too tired to say it right, and if I say it wrong you won't forgive it."

"That's not fair."

"No." She nodded. "It isn't. But there's a folder on the shelf over the stove. It has the papers. If you can't wait, read it. I won't stop you."

She turned and climbed the ladder, and I heard her lie down in the loft and not move.

I sat at the table for an hour with the lamp on.

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