“Curtis, what did you do?” Val asked. She was bent over onto herself, biting her fist. “Oh, honey, goddamn it, why’d you come here? What did you do, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. I wanted to talk to you is all.” Whatever jealousy and rage Curtis had felt had been replaced with astonishment.

“Since when do you ever just ‘talk’ to Val?” Danny asked. “You came here to beat the shit out of her, didn’t you?”

“I came to beat the shit out of you if you want to know. Look, I didn’t do anything to your friend. I saw you out here on the pontoon, and I helped myself to the rowboat. That’s all I did.”

“But why are you here?” Val asked. “Why?”

“Because I heard there was a party.”

“A party you weren’t invited to!”

Rhonda shot a look at Sherri. Curtis had overheard their conversation. He’d heard about the party, heard about Val and Danny. Everything was Sherri’s fault, that much was clear. She’d spilled secrets, forced Arthur to have a party, asked him to dive. Her guilt, anxiety, and fear felt bigger than she was. “Arthur, come on, Arthur.” She banged the metal railing with her hands. “Don’t do this!” She paced back and forth along the edge of the boat. “Don’t mess with us.”

“It was a freak accident,” Curtis said, sounding more like a scared little boy than a tough guy.

“I’m going in,” Danny said. “Maybe he’s under the boat.”

“It’s so deep,” Sherri said, remembering the first time they’d gone out, when Danny tried to drop anchor. “Arthur, come back. Come back! Damn it, Arthur, you can’t—”

She couldn’t say the word “drown.”

Paul yanked Curtis’s arm. “Come on, don’t just stand there. Let’s go get help.” He untied the fateful rowboat Arthur had hit his head on, and he and Curtis rowed toward the eastern shore.

Rhonda was in a state of panic. She had a high voice and began to scream at the top of her lungs. “Mayday! SOS! Help! Please help!” The sound was so loud, piercing and pure, that it split time into before and after: the Sherri she’d been, and the Sherri she was about to become.