The spade fell to the ground with a clatter. He took her by the ankles and noticed how cold they were, how the skin and muscles had begun to harden against her bones. He heaved her towards the grave, squinting against the sweat. The body landed with a thump. A bone cracked against a rock, the snap of her neck maybe, or her skull splitting in two. He threw the knife in after her and eyed the moon reflected in the bloodied metal.

Light flooded the lawn with a flash. He shielded his eyes and felt sweat trickle to his elbow.

Mother stood at the window, her shadow stretched across the grass. He felt her take him in: skin and clothes spoiled with dirt and blood, strands of hair stuck to his face.

Mother knew what he had done, what he was capable of. Perhaps she had always known, known even before he did, and had been waiting for this very moment, sleeping lightly and ready to wake to watch her child bury another.

He had to finish before dawn. Dew was collecting on the grass and the eastern corner of the sky was diluting with the waking sun. The car would need to be scrubbed and bleached, his clothes burned.

He picked up the spade and shovelled the dirt on top of the body, listened to the stones clatter against her bones, ricochet off her eyes, her jaw, her ribs. He watched her face disappear beneath the dirt as it filled the dip of her eye sockets and her open mouth. When the earth was packed tight, he looked up again. The sky was emblazoned with oranges and reds where the sun had risen behind his back.

Mother closed the curtains. He went inside to wash the blood away.

ONE

Naomi Hannah stood at the edge of the cliff with the sea breeze pushing against her as though it was trying to keep her from jumping. All she had to do was lean into the wind and wait for it to drop.

Not knowing how far she had to fall should have made it easier. Being blind didn’t usually come with advantages, but as she stood before death, she was indebted to the darkness.

She stood and listened to the waves crash against the cliff. The sound of them thundered in her ears like taunts. Jump, you coward. Jump.

Maybe the waves would be merciful, yank her downwards with the current and rake her over the rock bed until her neck snapped; quick and forgiving. But Naomi knew better than to expect mercy.

She curled her toes over the edge until earth crumbled between them. All it would take was a second of courage to tip forwards. Gravity would do the rest.