“Nothing happened.” Julie kept her eyes down as she walked into the house.

“This is not nothing.” Camille grabbed her daughter by the shoulders. “Sit down. Tell us what’s going on.”

Julie sat on the edge of the sofa. Her backpack was in shreds. Her shirt was torn on one side, her jeans stained with grass and dirt.

Papa came over and sat next to her. “Tell us,” he said.

For a few moments, Julie sat unmoving.

“Your face . . .” Horrified, Camille tipped up Julie’s chin. “How did you get that bruise on your cheek?”

“I—it was an accident,” Julie mumbled. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” Camille said, anger flaring. “Who did this to you?”

“Nobody. Forget it, Mom. Please.”

“I am not going to forget it, and you are going to start talking.” Camille looked at her father. His face was soft with regret. “Sweetheart, tell us. We can’t help you if you don’t tell us.”

“There’s nothing to tell, okay?” Julie snapped. “You want to know who did this? Everybody, that’s who. Everybody hates me. And if you want to help, you’ll send me a million miles away from here.”

“Was it Vanessa?” Camille demanded. “Jana? I’m calling the police.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea,” Julie said. “Let’s turn me into a federal case. Mom, you’re only making things worse. You already made it worse when you yelled at Vanessa at the library.”

Papa got a gel pack from the freezer. “Hold this on your cheek, choupette.”

Nauseated by panic, Camille reached for her phone. Julie grabbed her hand. “Okay, really want to know? People are spreading rumors, and I got pissed and picked a fight.”

“What kind of rumors?” Camille demanded. “And why?”

“You know why. Everybody thinks you made a fool of Mr. Larson, so the rumor started about . . .” Julie stopped.

“About what?”

“About you, okay? I didn’t want to say anything, because it’s bullshit and you don’t need to hear it.”

“Hear what?” Camille was alarmed now. A rumor about her?

“People say you killed my father!” Julie blurted out.

Utter silence dropped over them. Camille felt as if she’d been punched in the gut and couldn’t take the next breath of air.

“What an incredibly stupid thing for anyone to say,” her father commented. “Who would come up with such a stupid thing?”

“It doesn’t matter who. And I know it’s bullshit, but that’s what people are saying, and that’s why I got in trouble.”

Incensed, Camille grabbed her phone again. “This has gone far enough. I’m going to report everything to the police.”

“Mom, I’m begging you.” Julie plucked the phone from Camille’s hand. “Maybe if you didn’t act like the way my father died was such a huge secret, people wouldn’t gossip and make stuff up.”

“It’s not a secret. I just don’t like talking about it, because it’s painful.”

Julie glowered at her, and then at Henry. “You’re just alike, you know that?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Camille.

“Both of you had horrible things happen to you, and you refuse to talk about it.”

“That is a very good point. How did you get so wise?” asked Henry.

“I’m fourteen. I know everything.” Julie sniffed.

Camille looked at them both, seeing their pain and frustration. “I thought I was protecting you—and yes, myself as well—by keeping the past in the past.”

“I’m not blaming you, Mom. Or you either, Papi.”

“We know that,” he said. “Opening up is a risky process. But then, staying closed up creates its own kind of pain.” He patted Julie’s knee. “Perhaps this wise little one will do better than we have, eh? Perhaps she will learn to have more balance.”

Camille took her phone back. “Julie, I totally respect what you’re saying, and I absolutely don’t want to make things worse. But you need to understand that I’m not going to ignore this. I can’t.”

Now it was her father who took the phone away, setting it aside. “We will talk about this more, and decide what to do. Not tonight, though. Let’s have a nice dinner and talk about something else.”

Julie slumped into his shoulder. “Thank you, Papi. Yes, let’s do that. Please.”

He caught Camille’s eye over her head. She was on fire with fury over what had been done to her daughter, but there was no point in going on a rampage tonight.

While Julie went and washed up, Camille set out a plate of crudités and some drinks. A few minutes later, she could hear her father and daughter talking together, their murmured conversation soothing her own nerves. Papa had always had a calming effect on Julie. Now that Camille knew that her father had been bullied, she understood why he was so sensitive to Julie’s situation.

Camille had been lying awake night after night, wondering why she hadn’t seen it before. The symptoms had all been present, yet she’d been blind to them. The self-isolation, the weight gain, the dropping grades. How could she not have seen? Was she that oblivious to her own daughter?

She felt a familiar pinch of regret, one that had haunted her all of Julie’s life. How different everything would have been if Jace had survived. Would he have been calm and compassionate, like Papa? Fierce and protective? Loving and affectionate? Camille didn’t know how he might have dealt with a teenager, though in her mind, he did a spectacular job.

Could he have protected Julie from falling victim to bullies? Was there something Camille could have done? She felt horrible, knowing her precious daughter left the house each day to enter a lion’s den at school. The thing about being a parent was that there were a million ways to go wrong. Camille sometimes felt as if she were driving in the dark, only able to see as far as the beam of the headlights. She never knew what lay ahead until it was staring her in the face.

At six o’clock the next morning, she met Drake at the portside park in town, wanting to catch him before he went on his daily run. The portside featured running and bike paths, playgrounds, shade trees, water views, and a decent chance of a private conversation. In a town the size of Bethany Bay, that could be tricky. He arrived with two coffees on a tray from Brew-La-La, and a smile on his face.

She hadn’t told him the reason she wanted to meet.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

“I can’t believe another school year is over. Man, the days just fly by.” They took a seat on a bench overlooking the marina. He handed her a coffee—vanilla flat white, just the way she liked it.

She wondered if the year had flown by for Julie. More likely, the days had seemed endless.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Best coffee in town.”

She nodded, savoring the first lovely sip and wishing she felt the same spark of attraction he claimed to feel. One reason she had tried so hard to make things work with Drake was that he seemed like a great dad—high school principal, basketball coach, dog owner. She’d even fantasized, when they first got together, that their girls would be best friends.

“Thanks for meeting me,” she said.

He turned to her and looked intently into her eyes. “I miss you.”

“Drake—”

“I know, Camille. I just wanted to get that out of the way.”

The statement made her unbelievably sad. She didn’t miss him. Maybe she missed the sense of hope and possibility she had when they’d first started dating. “Drake, I’d give anything to not be having this conversation. Julie’s been bullied at school, and the school failed to protect her. And Vanessa seems to be the ringleader.” The words came out in a rush, she was so eager to get this over with.

“Whoa,” he said, scooting back on the bench. “Hang on a second. Where are you getting your information?”

“You should have seen the way Julie looked when she came home from school yesterday.”