Best Friends by Ann M. Martin Page A

things.” Flora glanced at the page, and Mary explained, “It’s a letter from my father to my mother. And it’s dated nineteen thirty-five. That was three years after the fire.”
    â€œOh!” Flora let out a gasp. “So … you knew?”
    â€œI’d begun to suspect. The letter confirmed it. I think,” said Mary, “that my father took the fire as an opportunity to escape a life that had become overwhelming for him. I’m not trying to excuse what he did but to understand it. And I don’t think he was a bad man, just confused. After all, he helped support me after he left.”
    â€œHe did?” said Flora. “How?” And then in a flash all the pieces fell together. “You mean he was the one who sent you the money?”
    â€œI think so,” said Mary. “I’ll never have proof. The letter mentions money but nothing specific.”
    â€œI don’t understand. Why didn’t your mother tell you your father was alive?”
    â€œI think she was trying to spare me. She didn’t want me to know he’d abandoned me. She was in touch with him, though. Probably for years.”
    â€œHuh,” said Flora. “I wonder about Isabelle. It sounds like she lived in Camden Falls or nearby. I wonder if she kept in touch with her brother. She was probably horrified by what he had done. But he was her brother.”
    â€œI don’t know. I’ll have to talk to Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Isabelle wouldn’t be alive now, of course, but perhaps Mrs. Fitzpatrick knows something more.”
    â€œMaybe,” cried Flora with sudden enthusiasm, “Isabelle had children! You might have cousins, Mary. You might have a whole, big, huge family! And they might know what happened to your father. It’s kind of exciting.”
    Mary smiled, and Flora felt deeply satisfied. A mystery — a decades-old mystery — had been solved. And Flora was writing a book. She tried to picture it on display at the historical society. Then she tried to picture Annika’s face when she saw it. The book would establish Flora’s place in Camden Falls. It would say that she belonged here as surely as busy Ruby, who had found a place for herself here months ago, or as surely as Olivia or Nikki or anyone else who had been born in Camden Falls. Flora couldn’t wait for Annika to see her project.

Spring that year, the year Camden Falls turned 350 years old, was the loveliest Nikki could remember. This was partly because of the fair weather, and partly because Nikki had friends, and partly because there had been no word from her father since Christmas, so Nikki could truly enjoy everything. She enjoyed playing in the yard with Paw-Paw without having to listen for the sound of her father’s truck grinding along their drive. She enjoyed reading in bed late at night against a backdrop of peepers and owl calls instead of raised voices from the kitchen. She enjoyed drawing and being able to leave her work lying out in the open.
    Furthermore, every time Nikki walked down Main Street, she saw new signs of the town birthday festivities. This was all very exciting until the week before the big event. It was then that Nikki learned a new term: Murphy’s Law. She heard it first from Min.
    On a spectacularly bright and sparkling afternoon, Nikki walked into town after school with Olivia, Ruby, and Flora, as she often did now, having asked Tobias to pick her up at Needle and Thread on his way home from work later that day.
    â€œIsn’t it beautiful?” Nikki exclaimed, throwing her arms out and tipping her head back. “Isn’t everything beautiful? Isn’t everything great?”
    Olivia and Flora and Ruby smiled.
    â€œYou’re crazy,” said Ruby.
    â€œNope. Only happy. Look — Main Street is getting dressed up.”
    â€œIt is exciting,” said Olivia as they watched a crew of workers setting out pots of flowers along the