I wonder if the police know that Jack Lewis was in town when Nicole was murdered. I wonder if they know his dad lied about him being away the whole time.

“We didn’t invite her, you know. It was as big a shock to me and Bella as it must have been to you and Jack. We had no idea.” That’s not strictly true, though, is it? I was worrying about it for weeks before Julia actually moved in.

Sean laughs softly. “It wasn’t your fault, though we blamed you—you, your sister, your dad. We made you the villains so we didn’t have to blame our mother for choosing you over us.”

“I’m so sorry about Ellie. She was such a lovely little girl.”

He smiles. “She was such an adorable little pain. We were teenagers. The last thing we wanted was a toddler to babysit, filling the house with pink and dolls.”

I go downstairs and he follows me. Jack and Lena are laughing in the living room, the door closed. I resist the urge to open the front door and start running in case Sean chooses to follow me. The thought makes my heart beat faster in a peculiar mix of fear and…something else. Perhaps I’m not as immune to the Lewis boys as I thought. Instead, I go to the kitchen, fill the kettle, put teabags in the pot.

“We never…” I hesitate. “We never thought we wanted a stepmother, never thought we needed one. The shock of her moving in with us…of her getting together with Dad…I’m sorry. We were teenagers, obsessed with our own problems. We should have spent more time thinking about the family she left behind when she came to us.” I make a face. “Julia became ours whether we wanted her or not, and you and Jack were being so awful to her, I cast you both in the roles of the enemy.”

He sighs and takes the mug of tea I hand him. “She did try and sort things out with us. She was always trying to get us here. But we were too angry. We took Dad’s side and refused to have anything to do with her.”

I assumed, when he arrived, that he would still be full of all the burning anger that scared me when I met him first. But I don’t think it’s there anymore. I stand a couple of feet away and I don’t feel the same edginess, the needle-like prickle of uneasiness that used to make me think just his presence could give me a static shock.

It’s muted now, dampened by sadness. I don’t know if it makes me any easier in his company. I watch him, leaning back against the counter, shoulders curved, head bowed, hands gripping tea made in a flowery mug.