Page 152 of Serenity Falls

‘She mentioned it.’

‘So, what brings you here to our church?’

‘Well, I was hoping you might be able to help me with something.’

‘I’ll certainly try.’

I clear my throat. ‘I wanted to talk to you about Davey Junior … and Milo Miller.’

He stares at me. His eyes are two different colours, I realize. One brown, one blue. For a moment I don’t think he’s going to answer. Of course, he doesn’t have to. He would be perfectly within his rights to ask me to leave and mind my own business.

But he doesn’t. He smiles. It’s an odd smile. Like it contains a secret.

‘Why don’t I make us some coffee?’

Serena

Mom worked hard to keep my name out of the paper, despite this nosy reporter, Carrie Sanderson, poking around.

With a little help from Johnson Green, the story that eventually ran was that Milo had taken a boat out on the lake and been attacked by a gator. No mention of any companion, the cabin or anything else.

I spent the first month after our misadventure grounded, but Mom’s relief at having me home, in one piece, outweighed her anger, and finally I was allowed out again. Not that I had anywhere to go or anyone to see.

Despite repeated requests to visit Milo while he recovered in hospital – even turning up at reception and begging – I was told time and time again that Milo didn’t want to see me. I didn’t believe it. I knew it was his mom, working hard to keep me away from him. But I couldn’t do anything about it. I sent cards, dropped off notes at reception. All were returned.

Month after month went by. Milo remained in hospital. He was lucky, people kept saying. Cracked ribs, concussion, torn ligaments. The biggest damage was to his left leg. The gator took a hefty chunk out of it. Doctors had managed to save most of the limb, but he would always bear the scars and walk with a limp.

I spent a lot of time alone, either at the library or down by the lake, thinking about that night. Not just what we found at the cabin, but what we did. What it meant, if anything. I kept seeing Milo just before he fell into the water. His eyes snapping shut, like someone had pulled a switch. I saw him disappear beneath the water’s surface. And each time, I thought, I should have saved him. Or maybe I should have listened to him when he wanted to find that tunnel. We could have escaped. Should have escaped.

It was almost four months after the attack when Mom told me she’d got a call from the hospital. Milo wanted to see me. His mom had relented. I was happy, but also kind of nervous. Things had changed, for both of us, and I didn’t know how it was going to go.

Mom wasn’t wild about the visit. She blamed Milo for us being out on the boat, even though I had told her time and time again that we’d come up with the idea together.

‘But,’ she had acquiesced. ‘If it stops you moping around like a lost soul all the time, then I suppose it’s fine.’ She had eyed me critically. ‘Maybe you could even change out of those awful baggy shirts you’ve been wearing. And a hair wash never hurt either.’

I didn’t change out of the shirt, but I did wash my hair. I also bought some of Milo’s favourite chocolate and a Batman comic.

Milo wasn’t in bed. He was sitting up in a high-backed chair, wearing a pair of striped pyjamas and reading a book. He looked even thinner, if that was possible, and his long hair had been shorn short. I felt mean for thinking it, after all he had gone through, but it didn’t suit him. Then he smiled and he was Milo again.

‘Serena!’

He closed the book and slid it down the side of his chair.

‘Hey!’ I walked forward feeling strangely awkward. ‘I brought you these.’ I held out the chocolates and comic.

‘Thanks.’ He took them and put them on the tray table by his chair. ‘Sit down.’ He gestured to the bed.

I perched on the end. ‘I wanted to come and see you before, but your mom wouldn’t let me. She kept saying you wouldn’t see me. I mean, I knew it was bullshit—’

He shook his head. ‘No, it’s true. I didn’t want to see you.’

My smile faltered. ‘Why?’

He sighed. ‘Well, to start with, I didn’t want you to see me in here. I mean, I was a mess, hooked up to all sorts of stuff. My leg was like raw meat.’

‘I wouldn’t have cared.’

‘It’s not pretty.’