the shed in the park. But she just couldnât accept that heâd had anything to do with what had happened at The Lighthouse.
Sheâd convinced herself that Anson would return to Cedar Cove soon. With all her heart, she believed heâd be back by graduation. She clung to that hope, focused on the dateâJune fourthâand refused to doubt him.
The afternoon dragged by. Every day had since sheâd seen him the night of the fire. After her last class she couldnât get away fast enough. She hurried off the school grounds to her part-time job at her dadâs accounting firm. As she walked to the building owned by her father and his partners, she reviewed the facts as she remembered them. She did this often; she went over and over every detail she could recall. Logically, she understood why someone who didnât know Anson might conclude that he was an arsonist. Okay, so heâd made that one mistake last fall, with the park shed. But heâd owned up to it, taken his punishment and moved on.
Itâd been a week since sheâd seen himâthe longest week of her life. She remembered how heâd come to her that night. Sheâd been asleep and heâd tapped against her bedroom window, waking her. It wasnât the first time heâd appeared in the middle of the night, only now he wouldnât come inside. Heâd explained that the only reason he was there was to tell her goodbye.
Sheâd argued with him, but heâd been adamant, insisting he had to leave. So many questions remained unanswered, including the issue of the missing money. Anson swore he knew nothing about that and she believed him. Mr. Gunderson was wrong to blame Anson for a crime he didnât commit.
Worse, according to the terms of his plea agreement, the agreement Anson had made with the court after the first arson, heâd pledged to stay in school and make restitution.
But Anson hadnât been in school the week before the fire, and Allison had been worried sick, wondering where he was and what he was doing. No one seemed to have any idea, and no one seemed to care, either. Not even his mother.
Anson had said he was leaving and wouldnât tell her where he was going or when heâd be back. Heâd kissed her goodbye and although sheâd pleaded with him to stay, to talk things out, heâd disappeared into the night.
The next morning, on one of the worst days of her life, Allisonâs mother, Rosie, woke her and said Sheriff Troy Davis needed to ask her a few questions. That was when sheâd learned about The Lighthouse. As best she could, Allison answered the sheriffâs questionsâexcept she didnât tell him everything.
She couldnât.
Not even her parents knew the full truth.
She dared not tell her dad for fear heâd lose his trust in Ansonâand in her.
Allison was grateful for this job at her fatherâs office. Even though it was only part-time, it distracted her from her troubles for at least a few hours a day.
Her father had tried to help Anson. Allison appreciated the way heâd stepped in and stood at Ansonâs side after that fire in the park. Her father had been the only one, too. Ansonâs own mother had turned her back on him; Cherry Butler had as much as said that her son deserved whatever he got. Nor did she seem terribly concerned that Anson had now disappeared. According to Cherry, heâd come back when he was ready, and until then, she wasnât wasting any time worrying about him. Allison was horrified by his motherâs attitude.
If Allison had run away, she knew her parents would never stop looking for her. And they wouldnât ever give up on her, like Ansonâs mother had on him.
But then, that was what Anson had said the night he leftâthat Allison was lucky. She had parents who loved her and cared about her. Anson claimed no one gave a damn about him. He was wrong. Allison cared. Her parents,
R. K. Ryals, Melanie Bruce