Chapter 12: Save Her

I carried the notebook back to the terrace.

Denton was still standing at the rail with his shirt open and his hair wrecked.

He saw what I was holding, and all the color went out of his face.

"You opened it," he said.

"It fell open." I held it up. "It's dated the morning of the party, in your handwriting."

"Yes."

"You didn't know me then. You'd seen me once, at my father's funeral."

"Yes."

"Denton, who was I supposed to be saved from?"

He did not answer.

I laid the notebook on the stone ledge between us.

"Your grandmother said you'd tell me when you could say it without breaking," I said.

"You told me 'Not tonight.' It is tonight, Denton."

"I'm not asking for the whole truth. I'm asking for the part you're afraid of."

He put his hands over his face.

When he took them away, his eyes were red.

"I'm going to say it plainly," he said. "You won't believe me. I don't expect you to."

"Try me."

"I have lived this week before."

I did not move.

The wind off the lake lifted the edge of the notebook page and set it down again.

"Last time, the party went exactly the same," he said.

"The necklace was in your bag. Preston said what he said in front of everyone."

"And I did what?"

"You cried. You said nothing. You took off your ring and set it on a tray, and you walked out through the kitchen."

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