I jerked away from his hands. “It hardly matters. You already ruined my life. Long ago.” “In the treehouse when you were eight,” he finished my thought for me. “I remember that party. It’s funny, though. That’s all you do remember, isn’t it?” “What are you talking about?” “The fountain,” he pointed out. “Do you remember what happened in the fountain before we went to the treehouse that day?” The fountain? I searched my brain through my confusion, not coming up with anything that stood out as out of the ordinary. I was eight, so I couldn’t remember every detail after all this time. Just that he
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