I don’t know Stuart at all, any more than I suspect Nina did. Sickening thoughts race, one after the other, twisting and reforming. Did I take an unnecessary risk? Have I tried to protect him when he didn’t need me to? Perhaps he would’ve taken action himself. Have I been played?

Yet, he looks so calm, so innocent, so grateful, even. I can’t trust my own mind to figure it out.

The rain beats down on the car roof. It’s oddly soothing. It’s nicely isolating being temporarily cut off from the outside world. Drops snake down the windows.

“As for you and what you’ve done for this family...it’s amazing, Marie.” He takes my hand. Both our hands are cold and mine are shivering. “There’s something I’ve never told you. Kevin is my stepfather. I found out during my teenage years that my real father had run off, left my mother as soon as he found out she was pregnant. It’s hard to explain, but I wanted my children to have a perfect-as-possible life, free from the negative actions of others. It’s very important to me.”

“I see.”

I’m not sure I do. I’m genuinely surprised and hurt that Suzanne never let it slip. I assumed we were close.

“Everyone has secrets. I loved Nina. I had to do whatever it took to make things work for all our sakes. Listen carefully to me.” He cups my face in his hands. “It’s too much of a burden for you to keep this to yourself. It ate Nina up. I’m not going to let that happen to you.”

“It wasn’t me,” I say, releasing his hands from my face as gently as I can. “I didn’t kill Greg.”

“No,” he says. “But you’re culpable. You and me, we’re a proper team now. Just like Nina and I were. You can rely on me, I promise. I won’t let you down.”

Tears fall. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The faint taste of salt dissolves on my lips.

“Don’t be sad,” he says.

I need to get away from this place. “Drive us home, please. It was a horrible choice of place to bring me.”

However, something becomes clear: if Stuart is my alibi, then I can’t be Camilla’s.

Forty-One

Greg’s camera has remained hidden and camouflaged among my own equipment. Until now.

It needs a new home. I remove it from its hiding place.

I hesitate outside Camilla’s front door—listening—before I slide in my key, even though Camilla’s car isn’t in the drive. She’s showing no signs of moving out.

I befriended her ex-partner on social media. He accepted my friend request within days. It amazes me that people still do that—I could be anyone. He appears to have moved on, as he is expecting a child with a new partner. After lots of painstaking digging and reading of endless inane comments, as well as figuring out that he had disagreed with Camilla moving away with Louise, I discovered that he was married when he and Camilla met. Although, I’m hardly in a great position to judge. What I can judge, though, is Louise’s welfare.