Luke knew he could never explain all of that to Smits. Smits had no right to hear any of it He probably wouldn’t even care. So the woods, to Smits, would just look like a scraggly collection of scrub brush and untended trees.

Silently seething, Luke led Smits off the driveway and along an overgrown path winding down toward the woods. Darkness was falling now. Maybe Smits would be satisfied if they just rushed by the woods and the garden, and Luke wouldn’t have to listen to any of Smits’s comments.

At the edge of the woods Luke turned around. “Here. This is it The woods. Now you’ve seen it”

Smits didn’t answer, just ducked under a low branch. He reached out and touched a tree trunk hesitantly as if he were afraid it would bite.

“Do you come here a lot?” Smits asked.

“I used to,” Luke said brusquely

“I don’t know anything about nature,” Smits admitted. “Sometimes I wonder…”

“What?” Luke asked.

Smits shook his head, as if unwilling or unable to say more. His fingers traced a pattern on the bark. He looked back toward Luke. In the twilight his face seemed paler than ever.

“Can you help me?” he whispered. “Can you be Lee?”

CHAPTER 6

Luke stared at the younger boy.

“I–I don’t know,” he admitted. It was probably the first honest thing he’d said to Smits. “I can try.”

Smits dropped his gaze.

“There’s something wrong with the way he died,” he whispered. Luke had to lean in close to hear.

“He was skiing, wasn’t he?” Luke asked. Luke had only the faintest idea of what skiing was. “Did he run into a tree or something?”

Smits shook his head impatiently.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “He—” Smits broke off, his gaze suddenly riveted on something far beyond Luke. Then he snapped his attention down to the ground and raised his voice. “Ugh! Why did you bring me here! Now my shoes are all muddy!”