When I came back out, the game had ground to a halt. Walker sat slumped on the arm of the couch, Mason was picking at the label on his beer, and Gray was watching the hallway like he’d been counting the seconds since I’d left. Damon didn’t look up; his gaze was fixed on the fireplace, jaw set.
I hovered at the edge of the room, caught between wanting to bolt and not wanting to give Damon the satisfaction. My mouth was dry and my chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vise.
Gray beckoned me over. “You all right, Ford?”
I shrugged, no use pretending. I tried to sit back at the table, but the chair felt foreign, too small. I ended up perched on the very edge, hands in my lap.
Nobody said anything for a long minute.
Walker finally broke the silence. “You want to bail, man? We can ditch this whole thing, I’ll take you home.”
I shook my head. “No. I’m fine. Just needed a second.”
Mason slid me a beer, his hand gentle. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
I took the bottle, but didn’t drink. “I do want to.”
Gray leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice low. “You sure, Ford? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
I tried to laugh, but it came out twisted. “Feels like I am one, most days.” My voice was rough. “You ever have a night that you just can’t remember, no matter how hard you try? Like it’s all there, but every time you look at it, it slips away.”
Mason was the first to answer. “Yeah. After Abby’s mom left, there were weeks I don’t even remember. I thought it was just me being weak.”
Walker nodded, serious for once. “You ain’t alone.”
Gray looked at me, and for the first time, his face wasn’t skeptical or reserved. It was scared, but also open, waiting.
I said, “I know I didn’t kill Ty. I know it in my bones. But I don’t remember what happened. Not all of it.”
The room went still.
Damon’s head jerked up. His eyes weren’t angry now. They were searching, desperate. “You don’t remember?”
I shook my head. “I remember him on the deck, yelling at me. He followed me home that night, after the fight at the party. I remember the fight, the way he shoved me. But I don’t remember how he came to be at my house. He was just there, yelling. Then my dad was there, and he was yelling, too. I remember my dad’s fist slamming against my eye socket. Iremember the creek, the truck on fire, and then nothing. Just—gone.”
Gray’s voice was soft, but steady. “It’s your dad, isn’t it?”
“When I woke up in the morning, my dad screamed at me to get the hell out. Said Ty drove off and killed himself in a ditch but no one would believe I didn’t have something to do with it because of earlier that night. I was so scared. So scared of that man.”
“He forced you to leave?”
I nodded, my throat closing up. “I always thought maybe—maybe he did it. But I couldn’t remember any details to prove it. I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain how terrified he made me as a kid. How beaten down I was for years. He told me to leave, but I took off because it finally meant I was free of him.”
Nobody moved. Even the fire was quiet.
Walker was the one who broke the silence. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
I shrugged. “Would you have believed me?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
Mason rubbed his forehead, like he was trying to massage the right words out. “Ford, your dad was an asshole, but I never knew he was violent.”
I barked a laugh. “You didn’t live with him.”
Gray’s eyes flashed. “I knew he hit you.”
That surprised everyone, even me.
