“But you had to look, right? Had to read them for yourself?” Tinsley said, looking wickedly satisfied to see everyone turning on me.

“Of course I read them beforehand,” I said, with a shrug.

“So, you knew about the mean notes, and you just sat there urging me on to read them… You knew how I would react. A true friend would have warned me or taken the notes out!” Rosalee cried.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about exactly, but it sounds like it would have been pretty easy for Mara to write those mean words herself,” Elizabeth said, with a hard expression. “Believe me, Georgia isn’t sleeping with my son. She thinks she’s too good for that!”

Georgia gaped at Elizabeth, and I laughed at this interesting turn of events. So, Georgia wasn’t Elizabeth’s favorite anymore? I must have missed something between those two, I realized.

I turned to Rosalee, but she would barely look at me, still standing over the flames with a furious expression on her face.

“It wasn’t me. It was probably her, trying to stir up trouble,” I said, pointing at Elizabeth. Now, it was her turn to gape at me.

“Rosalee told me what a bitch you are, Elizabeth,” I said. “You and your stupid passive aggressive Christmas gifts and always treating Rosalee like shit.”

I stood up to face Rosalee across the flames. “I’m the only one here who actually has your back here, don’t you see that?” I said, reaching across the fire for her hand. She yanked away from me and stepped away from the fire.

“I don’t see that, Mara! In fact, I don’t really trust a single one of you,” Rosalee said, bitterly, looking around the circle at each of us.

And with that, the guest of honor stormed off, leaving the five of us sitting in silence, dealing with the aftermath of our hideous party.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Aftermath

The heavy winds arrive just after midnight, blowing from the north, reversing waterways and creating strong gusts that threatened to morph into cyclones.

None of the six guests are asleep, unable to settle down after the way it all ended. They were joyous and happy at the outset, but those worms were digging through the soil, working overtime to disassemble the already fragile bonds that had formed between them.

The guest of honor is taking a bath. The water is scorching, punishing her red, raw skin and making it raging hot, just like her mood. None of the women are truly her friends, she realizes. None of them can be trusted.

The mother-in-law is changing, tugging off her stiff daily garments and pulling on her still-damp bathing suit. She isn’t afraid to swim in a thunderstorm. She is ready to make peace with death. She feels it knocking daily.