‘I won’t say anything,’ I say, still looking at that wall.

There’s a sob, loud and short, and Fiona slumps against Isla before covering her face. Isla looks at me with those steely stern eyes, and then looks away.

‘Robert killed Lorne,’ I say, wincing a little as Fiona sobs again. ‘If the police come to any conclusion, it’ll be that one.’

I look at Charlie, his head bowed low, his forefinger rubbing the space between his mouth and his nose over and over again. I think of holding his hands and telling him that the truth isn’t everything. It isn’t even the most important thing.

‘I had no right to come here. Not the first time. Not this time. I’m sorry.’

And then I look around at them all, unable to say how much I will miss them. How much I will miss this village. This island. How much I will miss the life I’d thought I could have.

‘Maggie.’ Bruce stands up. Fixes me with those dark eyes. ‘Thank you.’

I nod. Swallow past the growing lump in my throat. ‘I’ll leave tomorrow.’

And then I turn away and open the door. Step back out onto the street without once looking back.

CHAPTER 39

I go west. I pretend it’s because I need to retrieve the photo of the whisky festival, so that I can put it back on the red wall where it belongs, but it isn’t true. I give the farm a wide berth, although I see no sign of Will. He’s normally up and working by now, but today the curtains are shut. I don’t look at the blackhouse at all. That’s why I’m going west. I need the space and the comfort that Lovely Place gives me. I need to process my own hurt before I can take on anyone else’s.

The sun is out as I climb the bluffs again. I sit on the warm flat stone, breathe in salty air. Look down at the meadow, the resilient machair, pink and purple and yellow and white. The rabbits chasing one another from burrow to burrow. My breaths are unsteady, the ache in my chest returned. It’s happened so fast. The end of this. When I’d just been at the beginning. But I can’t stay, knowing what I know. I don’t have the right to do that either. To be a permanent reminder of Robert, of what they did. I had my chance to stop looking, to stop digging, to choose happiness instead, and I didn’t take it.

I stand up, go over to the abandoned burrow. Reach inside past the grass and trailing roots, feel the sharp edges of the photo frame before I pull it out. I sit back on my heels for a moment, brush the earth from the glass, from those blurry, smiling faces. I wonder what they were thinking when that picture was taken. All that horror, all that guilt. Despite the enormity of what happened to me yesterday, I’m ashamed of the way I shut down. The way I ran and hid. I think of Miko holding my meds. Will said you’d need these. He’s probably feeling more confused, more alone, than he’s ever felt in his whole life, and I’m still hiding. I remember that first day down on Big Beach when I asked him if he’d ever thought of leaving the islands, and he answered with that grin. I would. For the right person.