“One of you is being lied to by the person you love, and if you look hard enough, you will realize that. Because there’s no such thing as the perfect lie, and there is no such thing as the perfect crime.

“You think because my mom was killed a decade ago…because the same man killed thirteen other people without being caught…you think because he hasn’t left a clue at the crime scene that he hasn’t left a clue anywhere? Of course he has. You just have to look for it.

“That’s all we’re asking…that you look, really look, at the person sitting next to you, and you find that clue. Because he can’t do this again. We’ve suffered enough.”

The camera moves slowly away from my face, panning back until you can see the army standing behind me. We all stare into the camera, burning our faces into the eyes of everyone watching, all forty-five of us, my dad included.

“We’re the families of the fourteen women he murdered. When the police say he never leaves anything behind, not a clue or a security camera image or a strand of DNA, they’re wrong. We are what he left behind.”

The camera stays on us for thirty long seconds, then the screen goes blank, the live feed shutting down. Danny said Adrian agreed, because it made a better show.

It gives us time to set up for the next shot, which is me talking to the father of Sophie Cresswell, the girl who was killed nine months after my mom.

For the whole day, I talk to the families of the Magpie Man’s victims, their grief more visible the closer we get to the end.

When I talk to the husband and the sister of Sandra Stoneham, I feel guilty for seeing the photograph of her body and wonder if the police have shown them. Would they look if they had the choice? Would I?

When it’s my turn to speak, Dad rests his hand on my arm and says, “May I?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to,” I say.

“Neither did I,” he whispers.

Dad takes my seat, and when I move away, he holds my hand and says, “Let’s do this together.”

Danny adjusts the camera and gives the signal.

Dad breathes out, straightens his shoulders, and says, “I don’t know what to say. But I have to say something. My daughter is braver than I’ll ever be. She’s so strong. And her mom would be so proud. But she can’t tell her. Because she’s gone.”

I squeeze Dad’s fingers, and he looks up at me, then back at the camera, and says, “I didn’t want her to do this show. How wrong I was.”