‘Aunt Ruth used to talk about you a lot, say how awful you were. She said what you called me, as if I was your own baby, but . . . it always sounded nice to me. When she died, all the evidence came to me, and I wanted to see you, and ask you what really happened that day. I just needed to know. When I started working at the shelter, I kept trying to find the right moment. But it never came, and then there was all this.’ And now here I was, another dead man at my feet. ‘You didn’t do it, right? You were innocent?’

I sucked in a breath. I was tired of it, making up stories, alibis that no one believed, because the truth was too raw and bloody. This time I would say what really happened, and if I went back to prison I would just give up. Let myself die. Perhaps it would be a relief. I looked at his lovely face in the faint light, now grown up but his skin still smooth, his eyes the same. My baby.

‘That’s not entirely true,’ I said, the truth rushing out of me like a collapsing balloon. ‘But I did it for you, Carson. To save you.’

Casey

Casey

OCTOBER 2000

David caught me as I reached for the handle of the front door. His strong hands pulled me back. I shook him off, slick with sweat and blood, and still holding Carson and the gun I ran for the first door I could find, the walk-in cupboard in the hall. Inside was musty, the shelves stacked with tennis racquets and abandoned shoes. But there was no lock. I pushed myself against the door, bracing my whole body against it.

Carson was whimpering now, and I shushed him, mad with fear. I was weak. I was nineteen, five foot three. I had no strength. David was scrabbling at the door and I had my bare, bloodied foot against the wall, and now it slipped and he had the door open. He stood facing me and I raised the gun at him.

‘No. Give me the gun. Give me the gun, Casey!’

I was facing him, my back to the cupboard. I could feel my sweat trickling down. Carson was on my hip still, and my arm ached from holding him. I held the gun in the other hand, pointing it at David, who backed away a few steps. How my hand shook. I had no idea how to fire a gun or if the safety was on or anything.

‘What are you going to do with that?’ he said. ‘Come on, Casey, this is stupid. We can be together. I know you want that. I know you love—’

I shot him.