Chapter 12: The Offer

Ronan read Camille's text three times, sitting naked on the edge of his bed with the phone in both hands.

I read it over his shoulder.

I need to tell you the truth about that night.

Under it, a second message had come in while we were lying there.

Tomorrow at noon. The coffee place on Sunset. Alone, Ronan. If she comes I'll deny everything.

"Tomorrow is today now," I said.

"It's a trap or it's a confession." He turned his head and looked at me. "I'll go."

"Go."

"You're not afraid I'll come back with a story?"

"I'm only afraid you'll leave something out." I put my chin on his shoulder. "If she tells you, she tells you. Then you tell me."

He was quiet for a moment.

"I don't deserve how easy you make this," he said.

"It isn't easy," I said. "Make me coffee."

He laughed, and he made the coffee.

At nine he drove me to Bel Air to collect the rest of my things from the cottage.

I didn't want to go, but I had one bag and a pair of shoes there, and a letter from the director in a drawer.

The neighborhood was quiet.

A landscaper was edging the lawn two houses down, and a woman in running clothes stood on the opposite sidewalk with her dog, pretending to stretch.

Adele opened the front door before we reached it.

She had put on makeup, and a blue dress, and a smile that cost her something.

"Gill," she said. "Thank you for coming. I've been hoping you would."

"I'm only here for my bag."

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