“God,” Ruth said as she threw an arm over Mickey’s shoulder. “Promise me our lives will get better than high school.”

When she looked at Ruth, Mickey thought that for the first time in her life she understood why they called them “glory days.” Why this time would be something to relish. Something she would never forget.

“Obviously,” she lied.

Ruth turned around and looked at the firepit.

“Can we use this?”

Mickey shrugged, looking for another smooth rock.

“We’ve made s’mores down here a few times.”

“That’s adorable.”

Mickey’s face flushed, but she wasn’t exactly sure why.

“Does your uncle use the house too?”

Mickey’s lip went to her teeth. Her parents never told her not to talk about Uncle Phil, but somewhere along the way, she learned his name came with electricity. It made her parents jump—just a little jolt before they recovered, but it was enough to cause her to develop her own reaction. Eventually, it was enough to make her sidestep his name—the whole idea of him—entirely.

“No,” Mickey answered.

“Why not?”

Mickey kicked at a pile of leaves and inspected its wet underbelly.

“He’s dead,” she said. “He died in prison.”

It was the truth, and beyond the bare-boned facts of what happened that night all those years ago, it was about all she knew.

“Damn!” Ruth said, her eyes wide. “What’d he do? Did he kill someone?”

Mickey swallowed. “Yeah, actually. But my dad says it was by accident.”

“No way.” She took a step closer to Mickey and hit her on the arm. “Tell me everything!”

“It was in high school. Dad always said he was kind of a weird kid—like, a sensitive, artsy type. He had a motorcycle—it’s still here, in the shed—and made my grandparents totally crazy. When he was a senior, there was some accident and a girl died. He didn’t mean to kill her, but it was his fault, I guess.”

Mickey had never told anyone about Uncle Phil, but she saw Ruth’s attention as if it were physical, a cord floating free around her, and she had never wanted to hold on to anything so badly in her life.

“That’s crazy,” Ruth said. “That’s so crazy.”

“Yeah, we don’t talk about it.”

Ruth nodded. But then she yawned, her eyes squeezed shut like a cat’s.

“It happened here.”