Lexie’s peacock. Was it possible she’d actually seen a descendant of the hotel peacocks? All those years later?

I was sure she’d made up the story, imagined the peacock to life. But what if it was true—what if there actually had been peacocks in the woods? How many other things my sister told me over the years were actually true? Things I’d brushed off as her wild imagination, as mania, as out-and-out hallucinations?

Shirley turned the page to a photograph showing the charred remains of the hotel, a group of men standing around an old cellar hole that was full of water, all of them with grim faces. “The hotel burned to the ground. The fire moved fast. Fifteen of the guests were killed.” She closed the book.

“That’s so awful.”

“Your grandmother didn’t like to talk about it much. That place, the springs, they carry a horrible history.” She nodded somberly. “When I was a girl, I wasn’t allowed to go to the springs, to Sparrow Crest. My family tried to keep me away from your grandmother and her family. They said your grandmother and her family didn’t belong there. But I couldn’t stay away. I snuck over again and again.”

She was quiet a minute, looking down at the closed album. “Sometimes, we’d find things from the hotel. We made a game of it. Seeing who could collect the most treasures. We found old bottles, silverware, bricks, pieces of plates from the dining room. We had a secret little house we built back in the woods, along the stream. It was made from woven saplings and bits of bark. We made it into a museum to house our collection.”

“Lexie and I found things, too!” I said. “A doorknob, a faucet handle, a silver fork, pieces of old tile. We showed them to Gram. She told us not to play in the woods. She never wanted to talk about the hotel.”

“Your grandmother had her reasons. She was trying to protect you. She knew how much you and your sister loved the house and the pool—she didn’t want to taint it with any of the horrible history behind the place.”

She stood up, went back over to the shelf, and picked up a small wooden box with intricate flower carvings on the outside. She sat back down and opened it up. “I still have some of the treasures we found.” She pulled out the edge of a dinner plate. Then, a silver spoon that matched the pattern of the fork Lexie and I had found. She held each object like it was something sacred.

“This was always my favorite,” she said, holding up a delicate, teardrop-shaped piece of cut crystal. “From one of the chandeliers, I believe.” She handed it to me, and I held it up, watched the way it caught the light coming in through the window.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

“I used to imagine what the chandelier might have looked like hanging up. How the owners of the hotel, the Hardings, must have stood below it, greeting guests, thinking all their dreams had come true. They had no idea then what was to come. The ruin. The loss.”

I handed back the cut-crystal teardrop.

“We don’t know the terrible things that are coming our way,” she said as she looked down at the cut crystal, her eyes teary. “We just see the shiny surface, our own beautiful selves reflected in it. Not the monster lurking beneath.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Du—Shirley. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Lexie understood. About the water. She didn’t at first, but she learned. She was a clever girl, your sister. Have you seen her yet?”

My mouth went dry. I looked at her, unsure of what to say. “I—”

“Tea is served,” announced Ryan as he came through the door carrying a tray with three teacups, cream and sugar, and a plate of cookies. I jumped up, rushed over to help him set it up on the table, relieved to have somewhere to look other than at Shirley.

* * *

After our tea, Ryan suggested we go play Scrabble in the day room. Shirley introduced me to some of the other residents, who all had stories to tell about my sister. One of them even asked if I could play the piano and sing like Lexie had. I shook my head. He frowned in obvious disappointment. Another man told me what a fantastic card player she’d been. “No one could beat her at hearts,” he said. Then he leaned in, whispered, “Though between you and I, I suspect she may have cheated.”

I laughed. “Sounds like my sister,” I said.

Ryan and I stayed at Edgewood until dinnertime, walked Shirley down to the dining room. Then Ryan drove us out to a little snack bar on Meadow Road across the street from the beach at the lake. We ate fried clams and crinkle-cut french fries at a picnic table, just like we had when we were kids.

After we’d eaten, we walked around the lake, thinking the six-mile loop would do us good after the fried food. We talked about our memories, of Lexie and the adventures we all had. The rafting trips, the swimming competitions. He reminded me of a “submarine” she’d made from a plastic barrel, and I remembered how fast it had sunk once she got herself inside it.

Ryan laughed and shook his head. “It’s a wonder she didn’t drown.” Then he immediately realized what he’d said. “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

We were quiet for a few minutes.

“You had kind of a crush on her, didn’t you? Back when we were kids?”

“A crush? Not exactly. It wasn’t like that. It was just… well, you know how she was, even back then. I just wanted to be around her. Didn’t we all? Didn’t we all long for that little buzz being around Lexie could bring?”

I nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.

We were quiet a minute, looking out at the lake. The sun was setting, the reflection hitting the water and making it look like it was on fire. We were a little over halfway along our loop around the lake.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked.

“Sure. Anything.”

“Has Diane said anything to you about my mom? About the divorce? My mom’s just so weird and secretive lately, and I—”

“No,” I said. “Sorry. She hasn’t told me anything.” I picked up a rock and threw it into the water, watching the splash and ripples, but my mind leaped to Diane and Terri kissing by the pool. I sure as hell wasn’t about to mention that to Ryan.

He looked at me expectantly, waiting for more. Could he tell I was holding something back?

“Your grandmother freaked me out a little today,” I said, changing the subject so he’d quit looking at me like that.