“Haha.” It took her a minute to find the right words. “I’m not the kind of person who believes people are inherently good. I don’t trust easily. Or at all. But . . . I trusted you, Cam.”

He grimaced. “I know. I—”

She put her fingers to his mouth. “So yeah, when you lied to me, I got angry. But I was angry at myself for not knowing. I should have. I should have seen all of it, but I was too busy and distracted, and didn’t take the time for my own brother and sister. So, see, I let myself down. And I want you to know, I still trust you. If anything, I’ve learned that life’s about the little things.” She paused, met his gaze. “Like keeping promises.”

“Like keeping promises,” he agreed, with a serious look on his face as he lightly touched her. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

Maybe. Okay, yes. She was. She thought about her work, and all she’d seen. How sometimes the simplest choices could have such far-reaching impacts. Like her parents sending their kids to safety, planning to join them soon, but instead being killed before they could. Or someone driving drunk because he lived right around the corner, but in that two-minute drive he hit a car and killed one of two brothers. “Life’s too short,” she murmured out loud.

“Yes.”

She stared at the water and not at Cam. Because looking directly at Cam was oftentimes like looking at a whole pan of buttery soft double-chocolate brownies. Oh so good, and . . . oh so bad for her. “Which is why I’ve decided to give up my crutch.” She lifted her journal.

“Okay. How?”

She bit her lower lip because if he laughed at her, she might have to hurt him.

But his gaze was sympathetic. “You could start slow. Maybe leave it at home once in a while. Or start over and keep journaling without making it a road map of your life that you have to live by.”

“Or I could go cold turkey and literally toss it.” She eyed the lake.

He arched a brow, and she realized she was clutching it to her chest. But the thought of being free of the incessant list-making had her feeling good about her next choice. “I’m serious about this.” She slapped the journal against his chest. “But you’re going to have to do it.”

“Piper—”

“Do it!”

He tossed the journal into the lake. There was a splash, and then it sank beneath the surface of the glassy water, vanishing from view. Piper leapt to her feet. “Oh my God!” She kicked off her shoes. “I can’t believe you actually did it!”

“You said—”

That was the last thing she heard because she jumped into the lake, and it wasn’t until her body got sucked into the cold water that she remembered.

She hated the water.

Chapter 29