Trip stood up and stripped off his shirt. He turned to Will with a wink. “You can’t think about it too long,” he said. “If you wait, you’ll get scared, and you won’t be able to jump.” With that, Trip turned and trotted toward the edge, his bare feet slapping against the rock. At the last second he took a flying leap, soaring out into the sky. “Team O’Connor!” he yelled, and then, a second later, he hit the water and disappeared beneath the surface.

When Will and Trip got home that evening, the house was dark and their parents’ bedroom door was closed. Will wanted to know what they’d said to Dom Finch, but he had other things on his mind. He still couldn’t believe what Trip had done for him. In the moment, it had felt like a massive weight was lifted from his shoulders. The afternoon spent leaping into the waterfall pool, climbing back up, and doing it again had exhausted his body and calmed his mind. But on the car ride home the unease that he’d felt for the last month crept back and settled in across his sternum, like a too-tight shirt. His mother’s words echoed in his head. Making this right didn’t just mean getting himself out of trouble. The DA may have bought Trip’s story, but it wasn’t actually true. He had to do something to make up for what he’d done.

The next morning, he opened his laptop and began to type out a letter. At first, he struggled with what to write. Trip was sacrificing so much to keep him out of trouble. He didn’t want to throw it all away. He’d been so preoccupied by his own problems—whether he was going to get caught, how it would affect his chance at college, what was going on with Maddie. It was as if he hadn’t been able to see clearly what he’d done. Now that Trip had come forward to take the blame, he finally felt the full force of the part he’d played. He hadn’t meant to destroy a house, but he hadn’t thought twice about showing up at someone else’s home to throw a party. He knew he shouldn’t have been there; he just hadn’t cared. He’d felt invincible. Now he felt anything but.