“So all this bad behavior is the product of guilt? Is that what you’re telling me?” Looking at this girl beside her, this girl who was her sister’s friend but really, Alice sensed, her sister’s enemy, she felt herself harden. And her voice, which had started out sympathetic, rapidly turned faux sympathetic, sarcastic. “Does he feel bad for fucking Camilla up more than she was already fucked up? Inching her that much closer to the edge? Maybe giving her a little push? Is his conscience hounding him? Just won’t let up? Driving him to drink and drugs?”

“Uh, you’ve got it backward. She was the one doing the fucking up.”

Alice snorted. “That’s not what I heard.”

Cybill, eyes flashing with anger, said, “You heard? I was there. I’ve loved Jude since we were kids, since we were babies. And I was Camilla’s best friend, remember? I knew her better than anybody”—voice dropping to a whisper—“and I didn’t know her that well, as it turns out.”

“So who did?”

“I don’t think anybody. Camilla was”—pausing, searching for the right word—“complicated. She had secrets.”

“What kind of secrets?”

Cybill lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “That’s why they’re called secrets. I guess she had to have them. Her dad watched her pretty close, was kind of a hawk-eye.”

“Her mom, too?’

“No, Mrs. Flood was sweet. Plus, she was too busy obsessing over Mr. Flood to obsess over Camilla. Then she got cancer, was too sick to obsess over anything.” Cybill was quiet for a moment, biting her thumbnail. “Anyway, before Jude got mixed up with Camilla, he was just a fun-loving guy. Wild like we said, yeah, and loved attention, but sweet-natured, basically, didn’t mean any harm. Wanted to have a good time, that’s all. Drank, but no more than anyone else. Kind of a pothead, but not a drug person. Was into girls, but not all manipulative and game-play-y about it. He was, like, innocent. He—”

Cybill broke off, something catching her eye. She turned to look out the window. Alice followed suit, saw Dr. and Mrs. van Stratten stepping onto the porch. Mrs. van Stratten almost tripped over Jude’s leg. Jude stirred, opened a single bloodshot eye. When he saw who was standing above him, he rolled over onto his stomach. His hands were under his body, and his elbows were moving like he was fumbling with something. His belt buckle, as it turned out. A second later, his bare ass was staring up at the appalled couple. They quickly stepped over him, went on their way.

“Not so innocent anymore,” Alice observed.