For every piece of new information you gain about that person, you might have to let go of something you thought was true.Finally he asked, “So, that guy from your school we ran into. He was someone, right?”“Ex-boyfriend,” I said.Camden nodded. “You don’t have to tell me the story. Unless it’ll make me feel better.”“I was the one who ended it.”A pause. “That makes me feel better.”We were silent the rest of the drive. Camden seemed lost inside himself, sloshing around in places I had no access to.When we got to the Barn, I followed Camden to the porch, where he stooped to fish a house key out from under the cushion of the wicker sofa. His Azor uniform was long gone. Now he wore only his white T-shirt and black pants and boots, and I couldn’t help thinking that half of him had been stripped away.The house was eerily quiet without the voices and the music, the whirr of Eliza’s sewing machine. Once inside, I closed the door behind us. The sound of it seemed to startle him.
