But Marsden’s words had hit home, and in the intervening months, Sam had built up the courage to not only face what had happened, but the man responsible.

Miles Hillock.

Drinking himself to death in a grotty flat, Miles was already circling the drain by the time Sam had broken in, assaulted the man with a flurry of vicious blows and a clear intent to kill him. Placing a knife to Hillock’s throat, Sam wanted the justice that the system had failed to deliver. But as the man, battered, bleeding, and barely conscious had feebly tried to apologise, Sam had a moment of clarity.

The instances of the system failing were growing by the day, with violent and dangerous criminals destroying thousands of lives. The police, despite their best efforts, were fighting a losing battle, and their hands were being tied tighter and tighter by the constraints of the very law they were trying to uphold.

Sam was trained.

Capable.

Ready to fight back.

Leaving Hillock in a pool of his own blood, Sam walked away. The young man took his own life that night, the guilt of ending such a young life too heavy to continue his own.

Sam shed no tears.

There were some crimes you couldn’t come back from, and a year on from Jamie’s death, he was sure that his journey would probably end with him joining his son in the afterlife.

But he had to do something.

Someone had to fight back.

The graveyard where they’d buried Jamie’s ashes was immaculate as always, the groundsmen taking pride in offering those grieving a place of tranquillity to do so. The summer sun was shining down, bathing the morbid atmosphere in a warm glow, and Sam watched from the shade of a tree as Lucy crouched down in front of the plaque, which stood on a metal stand that was embedded in the earth. Behind it, the shoots of a tree, planted in their son’s honour, had begun to reach towards the heavens, its leafy fingers reaching upwards for the clouds. Lucy’s body was shaking, her crying audible even from the distance Sam had put between them.

A small gathering of her family had joined her to celebrate their son’s life, with her parents huddled together, sharing their grief. A few of Lucy’s friends were there also, one of them holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

Heartbreakingly for Sam, he could see Theo, dressed in his Sunday best, standing proudly as only a soldier can.

All of them bound together by their grief for his young boy.

A few feet to the side of Lucy’s parents, a handsome man stood patiently before stepping forward and sliding his arm around Lucy’s shoulder. As he squatted beside her, he planted a firm kiss on her head and she fell into him, overcome with her loss.

Sam knew she’d found someone else.