‘So do you know where Paula is now?’ Anita asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

‘No. The local guys haven’t managed to make contact with her.’ Rohan shifted his tone, sounding really anxious now. ‘Look, Anita, the cops down there will find this man. And Paula will show up eventually.’

‘I hope so. But I still need to—’

Rohan cut in, ‘Please. Hold on. This guy is dangerous. Wait until I get more information and I can—’

‘Sorry. I understand what you’re saying but I can’t wait. Call me if you know anything.’

A patient had once described the calm he’d felt in the moment immediately after he made the decision to kill himself. Paula never thought she would find herself in that same kind of moment—not even after Remy died, not even after Stacey and the kids were killed.

As she drew up a lethal quantity of morphine into the syringe, she didn’t feel calm so much as resigned and very, very tired. All that angry fuel in her body had burned away, leaving only the shame.

She’d exploited her privilege as a doctor to kill two human beings. Even if some good had come from those deaths, her actions were unforgivable. She had now assaulted two blameless people and then fled without helping them. She’d let down Ruby and Nicole. She’d failed to keep Stacey and Cameron and Poppy safe. Of course, it was self-important and ludicrous to think she had the power to protect any of them from danger. And there were so many other women, so many other children out there at risk, and there was nothing she could do for them either. The despair of knowing that was stirred in with the shame, all of it dragging her further down.

She reached for the tourniquet but then left it in her lap for a moment. Paula had cared for patients after someone close to them had killed themselves. She’d witnessed how cruel suicide could be to the loved ones left confused and guilty. That should have made her back off—knowing this action would hurt people—but the humans she cared about most were gone and she felt pretty much disconnected from everyone else. Except Anita. She hated the idea that this would hurt her beautiful friend, on top of everything else, on top of all of it. Worrying about Anita was what caused Paula to sit on the exam bed with the syringe loaded and the tourniquet lying in her lap for a long time.

But in the end, she could see no bearable way to go on. The numbed, structured life she had tried did not work. The shame would always be there. And she missed Remy so much, it was a constant dragging pain through her chest and belly.