We haven’t spoken much over the summer, but enough to know she doesn’t agree with whatever decision he made. Maybe she agrees with the reasoning . . . I get hints of that sometimes, but not him being gone or how he went about it. I don’t get more than that. It’s probably best that all I know is Harbor’s alive, but he’s not living.

That’s of his own doing, so I have no sympathy for him.

“Here’s your phone,” Amanda says, jogging down the path. “I took lots of photos so home would always be with you.” She snaps a pic of my dad, who’s still grimacing long after she comes to stand next to me. Holding the phone above us, she says, “Fries before guys.”

“Fries,” I mumble and then laugh on the outside. I’ve learned I get fewer questions that way.

Amanda notices those things, but she’s not going to say anything in front of my dad. She knows he’s already worried. Add my move to New Haven into the fray, and well, I might just see John Summerlin, my gruff ole dad, shed a tear. We can’t have that.

I hug Amanda. “It’s only like four hours away. We can see each other whenever we want. I have the extra room waiting for you.”

Her embrace tightens, her head coming to my shoulder. “I’ll visit as soon as I get a car. I almost have enough saved.” Her partying has slowed down, and she seems to have started taking school more seriously. She says I’m an inspiration.

I’m not. I just had nothing better to do than study.

“Love you.”

She replies, “Love you, Lark.” Pulling away, she crosses her arms over her chest and steps back on the curb. “I’m gonna go. I need to get my mom’s car back to her. Text me when you get settled tonight.”

“I will.”

My dad gets in the truck. I look back at the house, snap one more photo, and then walk around to the other side. Just as I open the door, I hear backfiring. I look in that direction and see a familiar, beat-up Chevy pickup truck coming down the street. It’s been a while since I’ve heard it and even longer since I’ve seen him.

My feelings haven’t changed. When it came to friendship and loyalty, Dane didn’t respect me enough to give me either. Him keeping the brooch was just too much for me to overcome last fall.

But . . .

I don’t know why I bother. I should get in the truck and go. I just can’t. After all the years we’ve known each other, he may have betrayed me, but I don’t have to carry this with me. I’ll give him five minutes, whether he kept it because Mia just wanted it and wanted to hurt me or to hang on to her. Whatever the reason, I hope it keeps him warm at night.

I tuck my fingers into the pockets of my denim shorts, angling to get a look at him when he pulls up in front of the house. Dane takes his sweet time, long enough for me to check with my dad through the open window. “Do you mind waiting?”