“Short of holding up a mirror, I’m not sure what else you’d like me to do, Willow. That man is in love with you and always has been. And no, before you open that fool mouth, I am not talking about Sullivan. I’m talking about Camden. And no, he doesn’t just treat you like the little girl who grew up next door. I grew up next door to them, too. I went swimming and hiking, too. I rode the same school bus and went to the same parties. If you can’t accept what he blatantly told you, then you’re half the problem, and we’re going to need a lot more ice cream.” She held up her nearly empty milkshake glass.

“You think that he meant if he were the one dying, and it was his head in Sullivan’s lap, that he would have called out for me?” I whispered. Any second now I was going to look down and see a scarlet A on my chest for even thinking it.

“Yes.”

“You really think Camden is in love with me?”

“Yes.”

My back hit the red vinyl of the booth. “For how long?”

“Since forever.”

I scoffed.

“Fine. I knew it the day he carried you home from the mine.”

“I was nine.”

“Like I said. Forever.”

“And you’re just now telling me this?” There was no way. Or was there?

“You’re just now willing to hear it.”

But I wasn’t. Not really. “No, he was cruel that last summer. The things he said to me. The way he treated me… That wasn’t love.”

“No, that was love’s ugly second cousin—jealousy.”

“If it isn’t the Bradley sisters!” We both turned to see Gideon Hall in the center of Bigg’s with his arms raised as he walked toward us.

Still reeling from Charity’s theory, I barely managed a smile.

“Gid,” Charity responded for us.

“Scoot.” He sat next to Charity and nudged her over.

“Don’t you have better things to do than harass citizens?” She moved even as she chided him. “This isn’t high school.”

“Thank God, or Julie would be pissed if I were sitting here.” He grinned at me. “How are you, Willow?”

“Fine, Gi—” I openly gawked at the door and the man storming through it. “Is that…?”

“Dad,” Charity agreed and became preoccupied with her straw as he saw us and stalked over.

But Dad hated Bigg’s.

“Willow, I need a word with you.”

“Hi, Judge Bradley,” Gideon greeted.

“Lieutenant Hall,” Dad acknowledged. “Willow, now.”

“Okay, what is it?” Suddenly I wondered if Gideon’s choice of seat was more to protect than annoy.

“You want to do this here?” he challenged, eyes narrowing on me as his voice dropped in volume.

“Dad, I don’t know what this is. Do you want me to step outside with you?” I offered.