“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve irreparably compromised this investigation.”

“Without me, there would be no investigation,” Tish reminded him. “I’m the only reason anyone cares. If I made mistakes, they weren’t with any malice. You have to understand—”

Stride sliced the air with his hand, cutting her off. She stared at him, scared and silent. Maggie studied the floor with her arms folded. He shoved his chair back and paced in the small space of the office, wrestling with his fury. He stared at the photographs on his credenza.

“Did Cindy know you were there?” he asked.

“Yes,” Tish admitted.

“That’s why she wanted you to do the book, isn’t it? That’s why she went to you, not me.”

“Yes.”

He shook his head in disbelief. He felt as if he now had to question all the years they had spent together. His wife had lied to him and kept secrets from him. He wasn’t just angry at Tish. He was angry at Cindy, too.

“Start at the beginning,” Stride told her. “Tell me everything.”

Tish took a slow breath. “It was a different world. You know that.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning there were things you didn’t talk about. Not to anyone. Look, it’s hard enough being a gay teenager today, even when most schools have resources and counselors. All you want to do is fit in, and you don’t. Back then, it was a secret you kept to save your life. I struggled with it, but at least I knew who I was. It was much harder for Laura. She resisted. She was scared. She was desperate to be normal.”

“Did Laura know you were gay?” Maggie asked.

Tish’s fingers twitched. Stride knew she was desperate for a cigarette.

“Not at first,” she said. “We were just friends. I was attracted to her, but I didn’t do anything about it for months, because I didn’t know how Laura felt, and I didn’t want to scare her off. I mean, on some level, I was pretty sure she felt the way I did, but she was so deep in the closet that she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. A lot of people never do.”

“At some point you told her,” Stride concluded.

“Yes.”

“Is that what the fight was about?” he guessed. “Is that what split you up?”

“Yes,” Tish acknowledged. “Things were changing between us. We were touching more. It was casual, but it meant something. We’d do homework on her bed, and we’d drape our legs over each other and sort of idly caress and pretend it was nothing. We’d give each other massages after we went running. We’d sleep together, not doing anything, but sharing the same bed. It was like we were circling each other, groping toward both of us admitting what was going on.”

“What happened next?”

“Laura was getting very anxious about her feelings,” Tish said. “She started going out on dates with boys. Like she was trying to convince herself she was straight. I didn’t like it. I was really upset and jealous, but I didn’t let on. Most of the dates were disasters. She froze up. Peter Stanhope was the worst. He kept pressuring her for sex, and Laura didn’t want that at all, but she didn’t really understand why. It came to a point where I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. I loved her too much, and I was sure she loved me. So finally, in May of our senior year, I suggested we go camping on a Saturday night. It was just the two of us. We shared a sleeping bag, and we were talking and laughing, and my heart was just aching for her. I don’t even remember how it happened, but I kissed her. She kissed me back. Romantic kisses, not like friends. I told her I loved her. And things— happened.”