“They’ve told us you were so convinced she was being abused that you reported it to the police when you had no evidence. Why were you so convinced, Tess?”

“There were photos on her phone—that’s the only reason I took it. And I saw…I saw fear on her face. I did, I didn’t imagine it.”

Detective Levinson leans forward. “Is it because it happened to you? Or your sister?”

I lean back and fold my arms. “None of this has anything to do with—”

“Tess. We know Greg Lewis raped you.”

My hands curl into fists. “No. No, he didn’t.”

“If it’s true, if he did that, then it’s understandable if you fought back. If it was an accident, or self-defense…”

I shake my head. “No. I didn’t do anything. He didn’t do anything. I told you—I hadn’t seen him for weeks before the wedding.”

Detective Levinson exchanges a glance with the second detective in the room.

“Tess—we found his phone in your room.”

“What? You’ve been in my flat?”

He shakes his head. “In your father’s house. We had a warrant to search it.”

“But you can’t have!”

“Can you think of any reason his phone would be there?”

I shake my head. “No. Stop. Stop this. It wasn’t me.” I fumble in my pocket and pull out the photograph, crumpled and creased. “This was on my sister’s camera. There’s someone else there—my sister was in his house at night with someone else.”

There’s a pause as Detective Levinson looks at the photograph. “What does this prove?” he asks me. “You could have taken this photograph.”

I shake my head. “It was Bella’s camera. Ask Sean—he found the camera. He found it in Dean House when he was clearing out his dad’s stuff. I can barely manage to take a decent shot on my phone. Bella was the photographer.”

“Do you know who the other person in the photograph is?”

“No, but if you can find out, you’ll know…”

I stop. He’s right. The photo proves nothing.

“We were at the house the night before the wedding,” I say, and I see the detective’s shoulders stiffen. “Bella took me there. The house was empty and she was crying and looking into the woods.”

“What are you saying? Do you think it was your sister? Your dead sister who isn’t here to answer any of our questions?”

I don’t know. The way he says it—it makes it sound like I’m trying to blame Bella to get myself out of trouble. I have nothing concrete. I’ve never mentioned any of this before, not even when they questioned me after the wedding, a decade before anyone knew Greg Lewis was dead.