Holding my breath, I crept towards David’s office. The door was not locked and I went in. So much mess and dust, a terrible smell of rotting food and cigarettes – why had I ever thought he was successful? The bottom drawer was unlocked too. I suppose he had given up on a lot of things by then. I took out the gun. It was heavy, black with no shine. I had no idea how to use it.

‘Casey?’

A voice behind me.

It was David in the doorway. Blood all over his T-shirt. He looked tired, so tired.

‘Casey. You’re back.’

Rachel

Rachel

‘You stabbed me! You—’

Alex’s voice was lost in a gurgle of blood, and very soon he fell to his knees, then on to his back.

‘This is your own fault, Alex,’ I said, bending over him. His blood was sharp in my nose. It had all come back to me, Rhonda’s advice. So many women were murdered in prison. She had always believed I would get out, if I could only stay alive long enough. When you’re in a tight corner, just find something sharp and swing it fast. Hit them in the right place, they’re never getting up again. I had done it. Adrenaline raced through my veins, and in that moment I could have lifted the desk over my head. My rational brain was gone in a kind of vengeance lust. Alex was going to die choking on his own blood, as he had killed Anna. He’d got what he deserved.

But he was stronger than I knew. He was pulling himself up on the leg of the chair, knocking things off the desk, a cascade of crashing and falling office equipment. The dogs were barking now, snarling at the noise, the smell of blood.

‘You bitch!’ he burbled.

He was coming for me. I did the only thing I could think of. I ran. Out past the dark dog pens, hearing them yelp and throw themselves against the bars, a clanging noise that was just like the day they killed Rhonda, and then I fumbled with the back door lock and I was out into the night, a chorus of howls behind me.

Casey

Casey

OCTOBER 2000

I tried to sound calm, but I was shaking so much I could barely hold the gun. With my other hand I clutched Carson tight.

‘Abby,’ I said, ‘she . . .’