The Truth About Keeping Secrets(67)

Heath.

I had to squint to get a good view of him through the headlights and the rain and even then, it was barely more than a silhouette. He stood with the driver’s side door open, him behind it with his hands on the top, as if it was a shield. ‘Sydney! How are you? Sorry to show up so late, but I didn’t want this to drag on any longer. I think we need to talk. The three of us.’

My stomach dropped.

He knew. He knew how I felt. June must have told him what happened at the dance. ‘The three of us? Is June here?’

He nodded towards the car. ‘She’s with me.’

‘I mean, we can just talk here, if –’

He shook his head. ‘No can do. I’ve been thinking about this for a while – don’t worry, I’m not mad, but I’ve got a whole evening set up for us at mine. Drinks, et cetera. And I’d hate to disturb your mom.’

‘She’s at the … police station.’

Heath blinked. ‘Did something happen? Oh, tell us on the way. This weather’s absolutely horrible. Come on. Why don’t you sit in front?’ He got back inside before I could answer.

My gut flipped and I wasn’t sure why.

But June was in there. And I needed to talk to her. I needed answers.

So I moved forward, rain splattering into my eyes, pulled the handle of the passenger door and lowered myself into the seat.

June was there. In the back seat. She wouldn’t even look at me, just faced forward with her shoulders hunched and her eyes closed. ‘Why did you do that?’ she asked so quietly that I wasn’t even sure she had asked at all.

‘What? What do you mean?’ We pulled out of the driveway, rain battering the roof.

What did she mean? Why did I get in the car?

My phone buzzed. I slid it from my pocket.

Leo: was trying to tell you. did research. Heath lied to you. mom’s not dead?

Who was the only other person who knew about the ToD?

My mouth went dry.

Leo: and didn’t you say his dad was the city attorney?

The red wrapping paper in the picture June sent. It was the same as the paper round Healing Homosexuality.

Leo: he’d have access to the cameras.

New year. June’s phone.

Olivia wasn’t lying. She hadn’t told anybody. And the house key – she hadn’t lost it. It was stolen.

Heath didn’t look at me when he spoke. ‘Sydney, if you’re thinking about calling the police or anything, I ask that you don’t,’ he said. ‘Because if you do, I’ll have to crash the fucking car.’





Chapter 17


Heath Alderman still looked pretty much the same.

Eyes narrowed, intense, looking at all of you, everything. This was Heath as he’d always been, but now it was different, now it wasn’t charming, now it was ugly and putrid and charred.

‘Could you put your phone down, please?’ he said to me. His gaze didn’t waver from the road, and mine didn’t from him. His jaw clenched, and the tendons in his hands flexed like he was trying to choke the life out of the steering wheel. ‘It would just make things easier.’

That took me a moment to process. When faced with the answers, I’d envisioned myself going red hot, accosting the perpetrator, completely confident in the knowledge that I was correct and this was happening now. But I didn’t want to believe it. You don’t want to believe anything is the matter. Your brain actively filters it out. Avoids chaos. And that was why I’d got in the car. And that was why, when I looked at him now, I still wasn’t even sure I hated him. I couldn’t process any of it. My brain was not interested in concluding that the person behind everything was at the wheel, had been in my life, had been there all along and there was nothing, nothing I could do about it.

‘OK,’ I said, because I didn’t know what else to say, because based on the malice in his voice I believed him, because even if he was bluffing I didn’t want to call him on it. ‘OK. I’m putting it down.’ And I did. Slowly. I set it at my feet and left it there – but not before managing to flick open the camera and press record, somehow, with my fingers trembling.

He wasn’t looking at me when I sat up again. He hadn’t seen.

I twisted so I could look at June, but there wasn’t much to look at – she was just sort of a heap. Hands clasped together in her lap. Tear tracks on her face glistened in the glow of the streetlights. I tried to get her to look at me, tried to screw my face into some expression pained enough to convey everything I wanted to say to her: What’s happening? What did he do?

What did he do?

‘What’s going on?’ I tried.

Heath grunted. ‘I’m still trying to figure that out myself.’

‘Heath,’ June finally said behind me, ‘this is insane. You’ve crossed the line. This is insane.’

‘Yeah, I’m insane. Sure,’ he mumbled under his breath.

June’s voice was barely hers. It was smaller than I’d ever heard it, the edges shaky and blurred. ‘Please just drop us off somewhere. Anywhere. Please. If not me, then Sydney. She has nothing to do with this.’

He scoffed. ‘She has everything to do with this.’

‘We can’t do this now, baby. It’s not a good time –’