The radio crackled with static before the paramedic’s voice cut through: a male, roughly forty years old, found unconscious at the foot of a scaffolding structure. Requesting police presence. Then, the muffled confirmation — Theo had been pronounced dead at the scene.

The high-pitched whine of the stretcher machinery faded into an uneasy silence.

One man stepped forward, his tone professional but heavy with something deeper — maybe guilt, maybe regret. He told Todd he was sorry. He shouldn’t have let Theo get away. Todd, struggling to process the moment, asked what happened next, then immediately dismissed his own question as stupid. He knew what happened next — he was a funeral director, after all. But knowing the procedure and facing the reality were two very different things.

The other man wrapped an arm around him. Shuttleworth’s couldn’t take the body, he said, but Parbold’s would handle everything. They were good people. And beyond the logistics, beyond the arrangements… they would grieve. Whatever anyone thought of Theo — and this man admitted he’d hated him as much as anyone — grief was inevitable.

A heavy sigh broke the moment. Debbie. Was she OK? No. Not really. Her Carl had been in an accident — a bad one. A sympathetic exchange followed: let them know if they needed anything. But as one man walked away calling for Ben, the air shifted again.

“That was Debbie Webster,” someone muttered. “Her Carl’s been in an accident.”

“Almost said that like you cared.”

The sarcasm dripped. “Has he? The poor wee lamb! I’m glad to see you’re fussing over him instead of your poor old mother that nearly died.”

A quick retort: “Sure, didn’t I bring you a cup of tea? They’ll be wanting to give you one of them Pride of Britain awards…”

A sharp intake of breath. “Nan?”

“I’m grand, I’m grand. Let’s keep the conversation to a minimum, shall we?”

A dry chuckle followed. “Good luck with that.”

Then a darker turn. Where was Will? Refusing to talk to anyone. Not surprising, given the shock he’d gotten. But one voice pushed back — Will should be used to shock by now, given everything they’d been through together. A bitter joke about dropping like flies since they arrived.

But that wasn’t the shock being referred to.

“He had my phone… and he looked like he wanted to hurt me.”

A deep breath. Reassurance. But the fear was raw, real. She’d run. She’d hidden until she felt safe enough to call.

Questions started stacking. Had someone picked Will up? George had been drinking — couldn’t do it. Had anyone seen Theo after that? No. Not alive, anyway. Then the line of inquiry tightened: Theo had talked about taking his own life. He had, multiple times. But one voice cut through with brutal honesty — Theo would say anything to manipulate Todd. That was who he was. Coercive control. Mental abuse. Physical abuse.

George was stopped mid-sentence, but a younger voice finished the thought: it wasn’t all right. George was right. Everyone knew what Theo was like, what he was capable of. All he’d ever done was cause misery.

Todd’s voice cracked. “Is that what you think, then — that he killed himself to hurt me? That this was his final act of abuse?”

Silence. Then: “Maybe.”

And then the bomb dropped. “Unless somebody got there first. Unless this was murder.”

“Mary! Flipping heck.”

“Well, come on — I can’t be the only one thinking it. Everybody hated him.”

Todd turned sharply. “Is that what you think, Kit? That I killed him?”

Kit tried to deflect — he was just there to gather information. But Todd pressed harder. It was a line of enquiry. Kit had already thought Todd was an abuser before. Why not a murderer this time?

The voice softened. Todd. They understood how hard this was. But throwing accusations around wouldn’t help anyone. Let them do their job. They’d figure it out.

The conversation closed — enough questions for now. They’d wait for the pathology report. As people dispersed, a quiet exchange lingered. Had anyone seen Will? No. He’d snuck out before anyone woke up. Shaken up after what happened to Maggie. Worrying. And how was Maggie doing?

They’d keep her… the thought trailed off, unfinished.

Somewhere out there, Will was gone. Theo was dead. And the questions were only just beginning.