I had admired Ryan Murray. I had let him into the most private corners of my life. I had trusted him. Looked to him. Wondered whether or not I loved him. Now, seeing him for what he is really is, I feel ashamed to have been taken in by him.

I had questioned whether or not I was wise to believe in Jamesy’s innocence.

I had thought Liam Doherty to be little more than a drunkard.

I’m doing my best to cope with my guilt. I can’t bring myself to speak to either Declan or Niall again. Not yet. Not until I feel stronger. I do wonder how they are, though. Wonder how they are rebuilding their relationship. How their mother is. I can’t imagine the nightmare they’ve lived with these last twenty-five years.

But I can’t fix that for them – and I have to figure out to how rebuild my life.

I need to figure out how to make a better life. One with real friends. One with real meaning.

Trina is going to call over tomorrow after work. She’s bringing some Chinese food and a bottle of wine. We’re going to try to have a normal conversation. No work talk. No Ryan talk.

I’m told Christopher Doherty’s wife has had her baby. A little girl, who they’ve called Kelly. I wonder if they are looking out at the fireworks tonight, too. I wonder if they will tell her that the world is a good place and that monsters aren’t real. That the banshee is just an old legend. That the bogeyman will not come rapping at her window to steal her away.

I curl my feet up under me and the words of the childhood song that scared me so much come back into my head.

Who’s at the window, who?

Who’s at the window, who?

It’s the wee bogeyman with a sack on his back

Come to take Ingrid away.

I get up, walk to the window and draw the curtains against the dark night and the falling stars of the fireworks.

Epilogue

Niall

I believed an innocent man to be so vile that for twenty-five years I allowed my father, the true villain of the piece, to cover up for his own crimes while celebrating the fact he had got away with seeing Jamesy Harte sent down for murder.

‘You know it was an accident, son,’ my father had said as I’d watched the blood seep from the back of Kelly’s head as she lay on the ground.

It was strange how her expression changed. How her eyes were glassy. Her jaw sagged open. Even though I was only ten and had never seen a dead body before, I knew that she was gone just by looking at her.