But I wasn’t doing anything, except trying to avoid Hal Nightingale lurking about the farm. Each time I saw him down by the road, I felt electrified, and terrified. Then, one day in town, he whistled at me. I couldn’t tell Ruth—she’d never believe me—and if I told Dad, there’d be a homicide. So instead I went to my mom.

“Hal Nightingale did what?” She dropped her wooden spoon in the pudding bowl.

“I really hope he’s not following me, Mama. He’s skulking around all the time.”

“Has he touched you? Alex Van Ness?”

The image of Hal and Ruth in the field filled my vision. I felt a deep pull in my pelvis, and I didn’t know what it meant. “No, he hasn’t … touched me,” I said.

My mom grabbed my hand, her skin rough like used paper. It was unexpected how quickly she lit. “You’ve done the right thing by speaking up. I’m telling your father.”

“Mom, don’t. Ruth will be—”

“Ruth must realize what she’s done, what danger she’s put herself in and, now, her little sister, too.”

“Please, Mom. It’s not like he did anything, not really. I don’t want Dad to worry.”

She went silent. I don’t think she told Dad, in the end. In hindsight, I wish she had. I wish Dad would have threatened him even more. Maybe Hal would have given up on Ruth once and for all and things would have ended differently. Differently for Ruth. And differently for me.

RUTH

I was so caught up with Hal and the life we were planning together that I didn’t realize how far Alex would go, how far gone she already was. In the weeks after I was forbidden to see Hal, she’d made Mom her confidante. She’d made Dad her pet. It was as if she saw the opportunity to benefit from my being in trouble—she almost relished it—and try as I might, there was nothing I could do to make the pendulum of our parents’ favor swing back my way. I didn’t want to leave home; I was too afraid. And I still believed that surely they’d forgive me and come around. So when the shit hit the fan—Alex’s shit, for once, not mine—how was I to know that, even then, they’d take her side? One way or another they’d all find a way to make it my fault.

One day, just as summer was starting to fade, I came back from a secret visit with Hal and walked into the kitchen. Mom was sitting at one end of the table, and Alex was at the other. Neither was speaking.

“What’s going on?” I asked.