The helmet’s gun was four feet from Eve.

Eve’s gun was two feet from Joanne.

A gun went off as Joanne screamed.

And then Nell knew nothing.

She was on the floor, an officer pushing hard on her shoulder. She could hear shouts from downstairs.

‘It’s OK, the ambulance is almost here.’ The officer’s voice was gentle. She stared at his eyes, blue like the sea, his reassuring smile.

‘Eve?’ Her voice came out like a croak. She swallowed but even that movement made her wince.

‘Got her.’

‘Alive?’

He nodded. ‘You did really well.’

‘Joanne?’

The officer’s expression told her the answer. She felt a tear roll down the side of her face and down the back of her neck. Then she noticed the uniforms in the corner of the room where Joanne had been crouching. She tried to pull herself up. What were they doing? They looked frantic; discarded first-aid wrappers littered the floor around their feet.

She looked at the officer.

‘It’s not looking good.’

Nell felt a surge of hope. ‘Let me see her, please?’ She couldn’t bear the thought of Joanne dying with a violence matching that of her birth. The woman deserved so much more from life than she’d had so far. Nell pushed herself upwards. ‘Please,’ she said again, and this time the officer relented.

Joanne’s face was covered in blood from the hole in her stomach. She was making desperate grabs for air, her eyes fixed on the officers as they tried to find enough material to stop the blood pumping out of her.

Nell took her hand and gently stroked it while the officers worked.

‘Hey there,’ she said.

Joanne tried to move her head but only managed her eyes, which grabbed hold of Nell and begged her to help.

‘I can hear the ambulance.’ But she couldn’t – where the hell was it? ‘It’s going to be OK.’ She gently squeezed Joanne’s hand. Joanne’s eyes told her she didn’t believe it.

‘You’ve got to think it will – you have to fight it.’

Joanne’s eyes looked up to the ceiling. It took a moment for Nell to realise she was trying to talk. She pulled herself closer and leaned down.

‘Is she dead?’ The words barely a whisper.

‘No, they got her.’

‘Jail?’

‘Yes. She’ll go to jail for a very long time.’

Joanne attempted a nod, then winced.

Nell stroked the hair away from Joanne’s cheek and held her hand tightly. Ambulance sirens got louder. ‘Can you hear that?’

Joanne was staring at her. Mute now, her body focused on surviving.

Nell watched the heartbeat in Joanne’s neck slowly fade, each gentle thud slower than the last, before it finally stopped as the paramedics arrived at the door.

Sixty-six