“I had to talk my parents into it, letting me go talk to her boss to get you off. They were really upset with me. My mom lost her job. The year before, my dad lost his business. It put us in a terrible position.”

Alison looked a little sick. “I . . . didn’t know about your parents’ jobs.”

No one had. Emma had been too embarrassed to tell anyone. “How did you think we lost the house?”

“I just thought your parents chose to move off to Florida while you went to college.”

“It was more of a necessity than a choice thing.” Shit. Emma felt the telltale tingle in her toes. An impending freight train was barreling down on her in the form of a vicious cramp. She sat on the floor.

Alison came closer. “Are you going to cramp?”

“No.” Probably, but pride—the current bane of her existence—had her pretending otherwise. “So you’ve hated me all these years because we were going after the same scholarship?”

“No, I hated you all these years because I got stuck here in Wildstone.”

Emma shook her head. Alison. Jealous of her. She never would’ve believed it. “I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t steal a scholarship.”

“Come on.” Alison gave her a get-real look. “You know what you did. When the scholarship committee called the women’s center and asked if I worked there, they were told no.”

Emma stared at her. “It wasn’t me.”

“Except it was. You were the one working the front desk. They were told Alison Pratt doesn’t work here, period. Not she did work here, got her required hours in, and now is no longer working here. None of that. They were just told nope, no Alison working here.”

“I didn’t do that!” Emma said.

“She’s right.” Phyllis stood up from her seat in the sweet yard and cleared her throat. “Because I did it.”

Emma and Alison turned to her in shocked unison.

Phyllis grimaced. “I took the call. And technically I didn’t lie because you hadn’t worked there in over a month when the call came in. And oh yes, I should have clarified.”

Both Alison and Emma stared at her.

“That wasn’t a very nice thing to do,” Emma said quietly, actually feeling sorry for Alison.

“Agreed,” Phyllis said. “But to be fair, the woman didn’t identify herself as being from the scholarship board until after I said you were gone.” She took a deep breath. “But what was a shitty thing to do was what I did next. Because even after the woman identified herself, I didn’t change my answer or let her know that you had worked there.” She met Alison’s gaze. “You were . . . not a nice girl. You constantly sassed me, talked back, and didn’t always show up on time. Frankly, I never gave it another thought, not your family, or what it cost you.”

“I needed that scholarship,” Alison said, voice shaking. “When I lost it, I had to go to a city college at night while working full-time during the day.”

Phyllis’s eyes went suspiciously shiny. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know I’ve been terrible to people. I’m working on that.”

Alison looked stricken. “Oh my God. I’m you.”

“Well, if that’s true, at least you figured out how to change while you’re still young. You’re nice now. It’s taken me a lot longer.” Phyllis looked away. “As in until this week.”

Alison let out a breath. “I can’t blame you for what you did. You were right. I was a terrible teenager.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t about what anyone did to me. I brought that all on myself. I was standoffish and bitchy and harsh, because that was my defense mechanism. I’m my own worst enemy. Which is no excuse for how I behaved.”

“I’m confused,” Emma said. “Why didn’t you just go to your family for help?”

“Uncle Dale was still dealing with the fallout from Aunt Jenny’s death. Simon was in college, and I refused to call him about it because he’d have come back, and at that time, he and Dale weren’t okay. They had a lot of baggage and issues. Dale was a bit of a workaholic.” Alison paused. “And also a bit of an asshole. Simon didn’t come back until his dad’s stroke, and that was only because his mom’s dying wish had been that he promise to always take care of his dad. Which he’s still doing, by the way. Luckily, Uncle Dale’s mellowed, a lot. Not that it matters. Simon would be taking care of him regardless, because to him, a promise is a promise, never to be taken lightly. He’s good like that,” Alison said. “Once you’re in his life, you stay. He’s loyal as hell. He’d never cheat on anyone, but . . .”

“But what?”

“But he won’t commit either. He feels he let his mom down, so he’s set aside the job he loves more than anything to take on Armstrong Properties and to be Dale’s caretaker. I don’t see any of that going away anytime soon to clear up room in his life. And I can tell by looking at him that he doesn’t either, no matter how much he feels for you.”

Emma nodded, feeling suddenly, overwhelmingly sad. “I know.”

“You love him.”

Emma nodded again. “I do.”

Alison looked to be warring with her conscience for a moment. “I’m really sorry I was so mean to you in high school.”

“I’m sorry I took your scholarship.”

Alison looked down at her tightly clasped fingers. “I’m even more sorry that I called you a practice friend.”

Emma lifted a shoulder. “I worked myself up over that, but I just realized something.”

“What?”

“It’s much more about actions than words with you. And your actions told me you weren’t practicing.” She met Alison’s gaze. “You like me.”

Alison rolled her eyes.

“See?” Emma pointed at her. “You do. You like me. Say it.”

“Seriously?” Alison asked.

“Seriously.”

“I’ll say it if you acknowledge that I had the higher GPA in high school and should’ve gotten that scholarship.”

“By one-tenth of a point!”

“Still higher than yours,” Alison said.

Shit. True. “They don’t even measure to the one-tenth of a point! In their eyes, we were equal.”