The room remains hushed for a few moments. Up in the public gallery, Connor’s mother gets to her feet and noisily exits, while her son sits with his head in his hands.

Outside the court, Lottie suggests we go and have that celebratory drink before heading home. I smile at her but decline the offer. This is not about celebrating. This is about justice being done. Now it has been, I can sleep peacefully in my bed and I can get on with my life.

Epilogue

Two years later

‘As you can see, Miss Adams, it’s a stunning view.’

I watch as Phil, the estate agent, opens the wooden shutters. A stream of sunlight bathes the living room, giving it a honey glow.

‘The garden needs a little work but if you’re happy to roll your sleeves up you could easily add an extra 50k to the value of the house.’

I nod my head politely as I step towards the window and look out. Phil is right, the garden is in need of some attention, but adding value to this house is the last thing on my mind. If I’ve learned anything these last few years it’s that family and friends are what matters, not fancy houses or picture-perfect lifestyles.

I think back to the woman I was two years ago and I barely recognize myself. In the months after the trial I was a nervous wreck. I was plagued by nightmares where Connor would be on top of me, pinning me down, his face contorted with rage and hate. I’d wake up in a sweat then reassure myself that he was in prison, that he could not hurt me, or any other woman, again. He was sentenced to five years in the end and, though I’ve been told that he will likely only serve half of that, it was enough for me to see him receive punishment for what he did to me and Cathy, however lenient the sentence might be.

Sometimes my thoughts wander to that strange man with the piercing blue eyes, the man who set all this in motion. The police got in touch with me at the end of last year to say there had been possible sightings of Gabriel in Melbourne and Sydney. Part of me was happy for him that he could be having adventures, living the life his father had denied him all those years. Yet another part of me felt uneasy, remembering his hands around my throat, the glee in his eyes as he told me he’d killed his father. The fact that he could be on the other side of the world is reassuring, though when it comes to him, I will never feel truly safe.