He laughs. “Miracles? I never had you down for someone who believed in miracles.”

“Not believed in—hoped for. Every night after Bella died, I went to bed wishing with all I had that I’d open my eyes and she’d be back, sleeping in her bed.”

“Yeah. I get that. I used to do the same after Ellie died.”

“Does Jack know about the doctor’s visit?”

“He was there when the doctor came down.” He sighs. “He’s only seen her twice since coming back.”

“Fucking Jack.”

Sean kicks at a stubborn weed pushing up through the ground. “That’s my brother. A one-man wrecking crew.”

“What is he so angry at? Still? Is it because she left?”

“Jack stores things up. He broods. And he doesn’t forgive.”

“But you do?”

His eyes are still red. “It made me bitter for too long, her leaving. I don’t want that bitterness to fester after she’s gone.”

“When you turned up, I thought nothing had changed. But you have, at least.”

“Jack did, as well, after your sister died.”

“Did he?”

“He and Bella…they had something. A connection. He met his wife soon after and it was odd, a bit creepy how like Bella she was.”

Sean must see something in my face, because his own shuts down, becomes expressionless. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t mean to bring back any bad memories.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I guessed there was something between them, even though Bella never said. I tried to talk her out of it. I never saw anything in…Jack worthy of my big sister’s affections.”

He smiles. “You were going to say my name then as well, weren’t you? I think you saw what you wanted to see. Until I surprised you at the wedding. Then you saw.”

Saw what? My memories of the wedding are hazy, disjointed because of the amount of champagne I drank. I have flashes of trying to be happy for Dad and Julia because they were so obviously in love. I don’t remember if I succeeded in pretending to be happy for them—everything got overshadowed by what happened in the woods that night and no one was happy—real or pretend—after that.

Jack and Sean didn’t come to Bella’s funeral, I do remember that. So much for the connection Sean just told me about.

“I was wondering,” he says suddenly. “About the camera. And what might be on the film. Have you had it developed yet?”

I shake my head. “I’ve sent it off, but haven’t had the photos back yet.” I pause. “Shit—I should have told the police about it, shouldn’t I? As soon as they found the body. I didn’t think.”

“I think you should wait to see what’s on the film before you mention it.”