‘Have you made any progress at all?’ I asked my daughter, my mobile phone squashed between my ear and shoulder as I searched through the drawers of Dan’s desk.

‘We’re definitely moving forward, Mum,’ said Callie. ‘Tobey is confident we’ll bring Troy and Libby home soon.’

Hmm. ‘Is he there with you?’

‘Yes. We’re on our way to a meeting.’

‘Callie, tell me something. When Tobey told you about the letter opener, did he say anything else?’

‘Such as?’

‘Is that the only so-called proof he has of my guilt?’ I asked.

‘Mum, let it go. You had nothing to do with Dan’s death and there’s nothing Tobey can say or produce that could make me think otherwise.’

Which didn’t exactly answer my question. ‘Callie, how are you and Tobey getting on?’

‘What d’you mean? We’re working together.’

I knew my daughter and I knew when she was being evasive. ‘Is there a chance of the two of you getting back together?’ I asked straight out.

Pause. ‘Who knows? Unlikely. But never say never, I suppose,’ Callie replied.

‘Is that what you want though?’

‘I’ve got to go, Mum. Talk to you later.’

‘Love you, honey.’

‘Love you too, Mum.’ Callie disconnected our call, making me smile wryly.

Whenever I asked Callie about her love life, she always had other places to be, other things to do, other conversations to have. She wasn’t exactly forthcoming, but it didn’t matter. I had eyes. After all these years, she still wasn’t completely over Tobey. Would she ever be? Just another of the reasons why I’d asked him to stay away from my daughter.

After examining every drawer, every book, every ornament, every part of Dan’s study for almost an hour, I finally admitted defeat and went in search of George. Even now, I wasn’t sure what I hoped Dan’s study would give me. Answers? Insights? What I had was a whole lot of nothing. George wasn’t anywhere in the apartment, but there was a door on the other side of the utility room off the kitchen so I knocked on that and then opened it. A short hallway led to another door, this one slightly ajar. As I approached, I heard raised voices.

‘Dad, this isn’t fair. You can’t tell me what to do. Not any more.’

‘I can while you’re under my roof,’ George replied, adding with exasperation, ‘Chima, you have your whole life ahead of you. Don’t let one mistake ruin everything. You’ve got to put this behind you.’

‘That’s easy for you to say. You’re dictating all my choices, Dad. Don’t I get to decide anything about my own life?’

A phone began to ring, interrupting their conversation.

A moment, then: ‘Look, I need to take this. I’ll be right back,’ said George, his footsteps receding.