I tried to play it cool, but my face was a dead giveaway. “Pretty sure she’s saving the boobs for after dinner,” I muttered, heading for the sink.
Sutton leaned on the counter, arms folded, that smug big-sister look on full display. “She’s had it bad for him since tenth grade. It’s kind of tragic, actually. You know she used to write his last name after hers on all her notebooks?”
“Gross,” I said, and meant it. I turned the water on, more noise than pressure, and rinsed my hands a little longer than necessary. “She’s married anyway.”
“Yeah, like that would stop her.”
“He looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin.”
Sutton raised her eyebrows, then glanced at the window in the swinging door. “You can say it. You like him.”
“I don’t even know him,” I protested, grabbing a towel. “I just—he seems interesting. And she’s so—whatever.”
She grinned, like she’d been waiting for that answer all day. “Lily, you know everyone in Whittier is an open book. But that man? Total mystery. Of course you’re interested.”
She had a point.
Sutton went back to her cookies, arranging them on a cooling rack. She didn’t look at me as she said, “You want the real story, or the one everyone tells?”
I paused. “Is there a difference?”
She let out a breath. “Well, in the real story, Ford was the smartest kid in school, and also the most reckless. Got into every kind of trouble you could dream up, but always managed to charm his way out of it. Teachers loved him. So did half the girls, and a few of the boys, too, if we’re being honest.”
I smiled despite myself. “He doesn’t seem like a charmer.”
“That’s because he’s genuine. He doesn’t waste attention on people who don’t matter.” She flashed me a look, then softened a little. “Anyway, what happened with Ty Higgins was a huge mystery. There was a fight. Everyone saw it that night at a party down by the lake. Next day, Ty was dead. Accident at the gorge.”
I stopped drying my hands. “Wait—he died?”
Sutton nodded, her eyes on the cookies. “Truck went up in flames. Everyone knew they’d fought the night before, Ford was the last person to see him, and next thing you know, Ford just . . . disappeared. Gone. Didn’t call anyone. Didn’t tell my brother or the Andersons goodbye. Nothing. His daddy said he up and moved to California, thought he was too good for this town. And that was that.”
I tried to process it. “So people thought he was?—”
“Involved with Ty’s death?” Sutton finished, voice low. “Yeah. A lot of folks did. Some still do. It’s why nobody here ever really forgave him, even after all this time.”
I glanced back through the window, staring at the now-empty space he’d just occupied.
Sutton kept talking, but softer now. “My brother was never the same after Ty died and Ford left. Walker and Gray, too. They all needed him, and he just left.”
I was quiet for a while, letting the facts settle. I remembered all too well the feeling of being left behind. Of needing someone, and having them walk away. My own scars pulsed a little, a reminder of everything I’d worked so hard to put behind me.
“So he really never came back?” I asked.
Sutton shook her head. “Not for weddings, not for funerals, not even when Mason became a dad. I heard he did some stuff from a distance—like checking in online every once in a while—but he always kept himself separate.”
I rested my head against the wall. The cookies steamed gently, filling the kitchen with bittersweet cocoa and vanilla, like a childhood memory, only definitely not one of mine.
“What do you think?” I asked. “Did he do it?”
She looked at me like I’d missed the whole point. “Does it matter?” I stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate. “Some people think he did, some people think he didn’t,” she went on. “In the end, Ty’s death was ruled an accident, no matter how shady it seemed at the time. But either way, Ford broke everyone’s heart by leaving. That’s what matters. I don’t think he should be punished forever, but I get why the guys are struggling with him being here.”
I thought about the way Ford’s face looked when he didn’t know anyone was watching. The bruised jaw, the guarded eyes, the smile that only showed up when I made a joke. I bet he carried every ounce of that heartbreak with him, like a scar that didn’t heal.
I wondered if he saw the same thing in me.
Sutton finished arranging her cookies, then wiped her hands on her apron and leaned back against the counter. “I think he was just scared,” she said. “He didn’t want to be the villain. So he left before anyone could decide. Only, that pushed them to making him the villain after all.”
I didn’t know what to say.
