“Oh, it’s a television show now,” Carson cut in. “For sure.”

“. . . or watches this show . . . they’re going to study you as you are right now, in this moment. This is your chance to tell your side. Because if you don’t, other people will tell it for you. Everyone will judge you. You won’t be able to escape it. You have a chance, right now, to say whatever you want to say. . . .”

“A piece of advice,” David said, folding his arms casually across his chest. “I’d tell her what she wants to know. The last person in your position tried to deny it too, and it didn’t work out well for them.”

“My father was a good man,” Patty said. “He did everything for me. He lived for me.”

There was a tremor in her voice, one that reflected the seismic activity that must have been going on inside of her—the rush and tumble of decades of psychological weight coming down—all the blocks and boulders she’d stacked to keep the truth as separate as possible.

“Your dad was a Nazi,” David corrected her. “And he murdered five of your friends.”

Patty stiffened and fell silent.

“Something you’re probably asking yourself right now,” Stevie went on. “How do I have this diary? You chased us. You saw us jump into the lake. You heard me scream that it was gone. I bet you checked. Were you there all night? I bet you checked the path, to make sure I hadn’t dropped it by accident. I bet you looked everywhere, to be really, really sure. Did you come back at dawn to check the lake to see if it was floating on the surface? Did you get in the water to look for it?”

The flicker of anger that passed over Patty’s face told Stevie the answer was yes, she had absolutely done that.

“So,” Stevie said, “you’re wondering how I got the diary out of the lake undamaged.”

“I’m wondering,” Nate muttered, his voice tinged with awe.

The expectant silence in the room was delicious.

“What happened is that the diary never went into the lake,” Stevie said.

“Wait,” Nate said. “What? I was there. You said . . .”

“I said it went into the lake, yes.” She tried—unsuccessfully—not to smile. “I made sure you heard me scream. I don’t remember doing much else, because . . . I’d just fallen off a cliff into a lake. But I made sure to do that. I wanted you to think it was gone.”

Patty shifted in her seat angrily.

“Are you saying you hid it?” Nate asked. “When? We were running the whole time.”

“I have to thank Carson for this one,” Stevie said.

“What?” Carson said. “Me?”

“I didn’t have a lot of time, but I did have this . . .”

Stevie pulled out the wood-patterned Bag Bag, the one made of the same material that was used on her cabin wall.