So Hope and I sit opposite each other, both dry-eyed, as she tells me the rest of the story. She started talking Shannon up to her father, who promoted him to a teaching assistant role and got him his own office. After that, Shannon let her delete the video off his phone, but she has no way of knowing if he made copies.

‘He probably didn’t,’ I tell her. ‘The video is evidence of his crime. He would want it gone.’

‘Unless he wants me to do something else for him.’

‘No. If he wants you to do something else, he can just pretend he had copies.’

‘And if I asked to see them?’

‘He thinks you’re not the kind of person who would ask that.’

‘He’s wrong,’ Hope says. ‘I’m not scared of him anymore.’

I nod. Luxford targeted her because she seemed vulnerable. But now that she’s survived a bullet through the head, she’s probably not so easy to intimidate.

‘So you dropped out of college,’ I prompt.

‘Right,’ she says. ‘It was too hard to concentrate on the work, and there just didn’t seem to be any point. A stupid, spineless person like me, getting a degree.’ She holds up her hands, assuming I would object to this. ‘I’m just telling you what I thought at the time.’

‘Was your father pissed off?’

‘Very. He kept encouraging me to spend some time with Shannon. Because I’d spoken so favourably about him, and he thought Shannon would encourage me to get back into my studies. I couldn’t tell Dad the truth, but I hated myself for lying. He was angry at me, and Mom was confused. I started to think they’d be better off without me around. And I felt guilty—what if Shannon had done the same thing to other girls? If so, it was my fault. I could have done something at the time, but now it was too late.’

I think of all the photos in Luxford’s desk.

‘Every time I had to drive anywhere,’ Hope continues, ‘I’d imagine a car crash. The kind no one walks away from. And the thought became comforting. It was weirdly fast—I went from worrying about dying to hoping I’d die. Then one day Dad left his gun safe open.’

‘When? You know the date?’

‘May twenty-third last year.’

Not one of the dates marked in blood on the wall planner. ‘Do you know why he had the gun out?’

‘Mom screamed the same thing at him. Apparently it was an insurance thing. Anyway, he was out, and I saw the gun. I ignored it at first, and went back to my room. Then I kept thinking about it. Eventually I went back. I put it in my mouth, just to see what that would feel like.’

I ask the obvious question. ‘How did you feel?’