I stop, freezing halfway to the table with a plate of cheese sandwiches in my hand. “They weren’t close. Not like that—not like you’re insinuating. She was going out with Jack, with Greg’s son, for God’s sake.” I stop and shake my head. “These are all just rumors, though, aren’t they? Even if Bella was hanging out with Greg—Mr. Lewis—that doesn’t mean…”

“Of course. I just wanted to make you aware. Also…there’s something else.”

“What?” I glance toward the window. The first people from the funeral are making their way up the lane.

“You told us you barely knew Greg Lewis, that you’d stopped working in the garden of Dean House. But you were seen. In the gardens with Mr. Lewis. Several people have told us you were there on many occasions right up to when he…disappeared.”

I’m flooded with memories of dirt under my nails, weak tea and ginger nut biscuits in a half-finished garden, muscles aching from digging. Old books about gardening, lessons about Latin names, lessons about plants and flowers.

“It was a long time ago,” I say. “I…I don’t remember exact times. But I had stopped. All your witnesses, they’re the ones who are mistaken. Telling you about my visits would have muddied things. It would have stopped you from seeing—”

“Tess, it’s not your sister’s death that’s concerning us right now. It’s Greg Lewis’s, who was murdered. We know your state of mind is fragile right now. The incident at your school, the insomnia. You have to appreciate it looks…”

Suspicious. It looks suspicious. If I were on the outside looking in, I’d have the handcuffs out. I’d be arresting the crazy woman who attacks her students and sees her dead sister.

“Who told you, anyway? Was it Jack or Lena? You know he’s trying to stir things up, trying to implicate me or Dad…”

“I’m aware of the lingering hostilities. But you need to come into the station to answer some more questions. Tell us more about this…friendship between you, Greg Lewis, and your sister. There may be things you remember that can help us.”

“You need to go,” I say through numb lips. “I have fifty people coming back here from my stepmother’s funeral. You need to go.”

“I will. But don’t go anywhere, Tess. And you need to come to the station. I’ll expect you in the morning.”

What will I say when he asks those questions? Will I tell him about the last photo that was on the film in Bella’s camera? The photo that’s making me wonder…oh, it’s making me wonder the most awful things. Or will I tell him about the final argument I had with Bella and the terrible lie I told?

When did you stop sleeping, Tess? Bella whispers.