Ezra’s expression softens, and he sinks back down into his chair. “I can only imagine what it would be like to be learning all of this years later.” He sighs. “I’m sorry I snapped. I just spent so long feeling like I had to defend my dad, it’s my default setting.”

June grabs the bottle of wine and refills Ezra’s glass and her own, then sits back down at the table. “Here’s the version I was told by my mother: my dad took off because he was a weak-willed coward, and she sold Avril Island because we needed the extra money with him gone. That’s literally all I knew about the time in our history.”

“She told you that she sold this place?” Ezra asks in disbelief.

June nods and drinks greedily from her glass. “Why do you think West left, if he wasn’t actually, you know”—she pauses, taking time with her words—“guilty of anything?”

Ezra shrugs. “I don’t know. All that I do know for sure is that my mom kind of lost it when my dad disappeared. Became a bit unhinged from reality. Some days she’s quite lucid, but other days it’s hard to tell she’s even in there or understands what she’s talking about.”

June spreads her fingers forward on the table as though she wants to take Ezra’s hand, but she doesn’t. “I can’t believe I didn’t know any of this. That you were here going through some entirely separate reality but one directly connected to me.”

“Why do you think your mom said she sold the place when she didn’t?” Ezra asks. “I heard that there were offers over the years, but she always turned them down.”

June scrunches her face in confusion. “I don’t know. I even asked her if we could come back to get our things. I wanted to say good-bye to this place. Mostly I just wanted to see it one more time. Memorize every tree, every rock, every …” She trails off, picks at a knot in the wooden table with great focus. She’s trying not to cry. I know the signs well. She clears her throat. “Whenever I asked, she’d say maybe. Then one day I asked and she told me it was too late. That she’d sold it to another family.”

“Maybe because the place reminded her of your dad?” Ezra offers.

June laughs. “This place was all my mother. She ruled it, and he got to visit on weekends. And now I know how well that suited her.” She throws her hands up. “She was sleeping with your father.” June suddenly looks angry. She stops talking and stares into her wineglass as though she might find comfort there.