“Yes! Engaged!” Stacy said. “I didn’t say anything, but—but she’s pretending to Jack like it never happened, like she’s only ever had eyes for him! But I don’t see how she ever could love Jack—not if this letter is the least bit true—We have to do something, Harry. Don’t you think? We can’t let Jack get hurt; we can’t let Mary have Jack when she doesn’t deserve him! She’s been lying to him this whole time! You have to help me.”

Harry shook his head. “You know Chase died? He died, so what the heck does it matter about any of it? So what if your sister loved him and now she loves Jack. What do you know about any of it, anyway? About what it’s like to really lose somebody. To love somebody and lose them. How would you know what that’s like? How would you know if Jack would even give a damn about it, what with all he’s seen, all he’s done? How would you know?”

“But she couldn’t love Jack, not if this letter is true! And it must be true, because here it is! Don’t you think Jack has the right to know?”

“I don’t care, Stacy. I don’t care what Mary does, or what she did. Chase died, Stacy. Goddamn it, he died! The least you can do is let the rest of us alone!”

Harry turned back toward the water.

After a moment he heard her say, “Fine. Fine, Harry, if that’s the way you feel.”

He’s not coming back and she never will she never will and I don’t care I don’t care I don’t! until he heard footsteps, leaving him alone.

But Stacy ended up showing Jinny the letter from Mary to Chase. Harry gathered it was full of a bunch of lovey-dovey stuff, plus some detailed plans for an elaborate wedding, apparently part of a game Chase and Mary had played in every letter, trying to outdo each other with more fantastic dreams for their future. Jinny told Jack about it.

Jack was furious at them all for keeping him in the dark. Evidently, he’d been under the impression that Chase and Mary had been nothing more than pen pals, and his pride couldn’t stand the truth. He broke up with Mary, wouldn’t talk to anyone.