I hear Jamie behind me, still laughing. “You shoulda seen yer face. But now, that’s better, aye? We could be happy here.” He sounds wistful. I wonder if he has ever been happy. But in an instant, his mood flips. “You’re not being very grateful. You should be thanking me: I’ve kept our dad for us for all these years, so we can be together.” I wonder when he removed the bones from the cave. Not three weeks ago, that’s for sure; Jamie probably hasn’t been to that cave in over a decade. I would think he has been taking very special care of this skeleton for a good long time. “You, me and our dad—it’s how it’s meant to be. We can be happy here in the Manse.”

“Jamie—”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say it!” He’s yelling, and it’s terrifying. He’s armed and unhinged and unpredictable, and it’s utterly terrifying.

“It’s how it’s meant to be, we can be happy here, it’s how it’s meant to be, it’s how it’s meant to be . . .” The words are tumbling out of me on repeat, so fast they barely make sense.

A sound comes from outside, a purr of an engine. “Shut it!” snarls Jamie, and then seconds later, I hear the unmistakable crunching of gravel. I turn my head from my father’s, and Jamie snaps off the lamp and crosses to the window, flicking the curtain aside. I start to get up.

“Not so fast,” he barks, and the faint gleam along the shotgun’s barrel pivots in my direction, freezing me in the darkness, half sitting, half on one elbow. Some of my father’s bones have slipped against me. One knobbly bone end has slipped under me, pressing into my hip.

My father’s bones. A Schrödinger’s cat experiment no longer. He is dead, he has long been dead, he can only ever be dead . . .

Now is not the time for that.

“It’s Fi. Took ma fucking jeep again. Bint.” His accent is getting stronger, and he looks flustered. He hadn’t counted on an intrusion. It would be the perfect distraction to use to somehow get the upper hand, except that if Fiona is here, Carrie will surely be with her . . . “And Carrie, looks like.”

“She has a key,” I find myself muttering, horrified dread pooling in my stomach. Should I shout, scream? What can I do to safely turn them away? The jeep’s engine has already cut off. Now there’s the sound of a car door slamming, once, twice, and footsteps crunching on the gravel.

Jamie visibly makes a decision. “C’mon, we’ll have to go down. Put that lamp on again. Hurry up!”