“It’s not Cam’s fault that Sullivan died.” The words fell from my lips as if they’d been doing it for the last six years, though they never had before. Not that I’d ever blamed Cam. I knew better than that. I’d simply never contradicted Dad because he’d never been bold enough to say it in front of me.

There is more beauty in truth. Cam’s words from the library, reciting that book, settled on my chest with a warmth I didn’t deserve. Shame crept up my neck, hot and uncomfortable. I’d known what my father had thought all these years. I should have said it long before now.

My silence may as well have been an endorsement of Dad’s preposterous thought. Of the entire town’s.

“He was there. Did you know that?” Dad challenged.

Charity reached into my lap and gripped my hand.

“Yes.” It was well known that Cam’s unit had rushed to the firefight that took Sullivan.

“He gave an order that got Sullivan killed.”

I’d heard that rumor, too.

“It wasn’t Cam’s bullet that hit Sullivan, Dad.”

“He sure as hell didn’t save him, did he? If you were in battle with your sister, you would have been right by her side.” He left the damning accusation hanging there.

Charity’s hand tightened around mine, and I squeezed back.

“I can’t answer that, Dad. I’ve never been to war. Have you?”

He pulled his napkin from his lap and flung it on the table. “Thank you for dinner, sweetheart. I’m going to start on the dishes.” He pushed back from the table and stood, taking his plate with him. He seemed to struggle with his thoughts, then brought his eyes to mine. “I saw what Sullivan’s death did to you. When you watch the person you love most lose what they love most, then you’ll understand. But I pray to God that never happens to you, Willow.”

He left the room, taking some but not all of the tension with him.

My eyes swung past Rose, who was chewing slowly with wide eyes, to my mother, who glared at both Charity and me.

“I’m going to help Grandpa,” Rose announced, springing from the table, plate in hand.

“Traitor,” Charity whispered at her daughter’s back with a little smirk.

“Really, girls? You with the whole ‘my life, my rules’ thing.” She pointed at Charity. “And you with…”

“The truth?” I offered.

“You can’t make him accept Cam. The day he brought you home with that broken nose, your dad made up his mind about him.” Mom shook her head as the sound of the faucet running started from the kitchen. “The fire sealed the deal.”