Me too.

It doesn’t let her off murder—not by a long way.

I no longer think of Greg as benign “Greg from the book group.” I’m certain he has had a hidden agenda for a long time. If I’m right, then he’s dangerous to us both. Who’d have thought that after all this time, Camilla and I would have to join forces for both our sakes.

Nina’s legacy is becoming increasingly twisted in ways I don’t think even she could have foreseen.

Thirty-Six

Everything at home looks the same, yet my whole life and outlook is different. One of the first things to catch my eye is the camera. It strikes me as odd how so very recently I was obsessed with watching the footage. The shift in my priorities is stark. Actually, thinking about it...

“We need to dismantle that one,” I say to Stuart, pointing at it. “I don’t want to use Greg’s stuff anymore. We can buy and install our own.”

I can’t be too careful. I don’t need to feel paranoid in my own environment.

While Jack lies asleep (thank goodness) in his car seat, I read congratulations cards, admire flowers and open gifts. Exhaustion hits at the same time that Camilla opens the back door and lets herself in.

Strange to think that I haven’t seen her since that night. Time has distorted, like it could have happened weeks or months ago. The memories are dreamlike, almost as if they never happened.

She makes a show of oohing and aahing over Jack, but I can tell that she’s desperate to speak to me.

“He’s gorgeous.”

“Thanks. Please don’t stand too close to him,” I can’t help saying.

She throws me a look.

What does she expect? She confessed to murdering my ex-boyfriend.

“Coffee?” Stuart asks.

Camilla shakes her head.

Stuart gives me an are you all right to be left alone with her? look behind her back.

I reply with a discreet nod.

He retreats to his study, closing the door behind him.

“It wasn’t true, what I said,” she begins. “I was angry, I wanted you to stop questioning me. I thought that if I told you what you wanted to hear, I could sort it out later.”

Photo evidence aside, I don’t believe her. Charlie’s body had a head injury. It’s like some sort of sick game, was it a rock, a cooler or a metal pole? For now, I’ll let her deny away. It’s not as if I don’t have enough on my plate, and Nina isn’t here—as we all well know—to corroborate or dispute her story. I go along with the polite chitchat.

“Sorry about...” I say.

“It was a ridiculous stunt, but I understand now why it’s been so hard for you having me and Louise back here. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Jack makes a sound. We both turn and stare at him. He remains asleep.

“So... Greg,” she says. “Guess why he dumped me?”

I shrug.