The conversation was a minefield of half-truths, tension stretched tight as piano wire. Everyone knew something, but nobody was saying everything.

David sat there, his face a mask of uneasy silence while the others pressed him. He’d been holding something back, and the weight of it was beginning to crack his composure. The room felt smaller with every passing second.

“I didn’t know how to tell you before,” he finally admitted, his voice faltering. “I just thought it was Jodie being…”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” The interruption was sharp as a slap. “What is it? Just tell me.”

“She sent me a voicemail that night.” He let the words hang in the air like smoke. “And it… it was a total nuts voicemail.”

“Right. What is with this drips and drabs, David?” The anger was rising now, impossible to contain. “My sister is missing and you’re feeding me important information when you think the time’s right?”

“She wasn’t missing.”

“That’s not the point!”

“I didn’t know what to do for the best.”

“The best fruit? Look, it’s just another one of her stunts.”

“My sister’s blood is not a stunt, okay?” The words came out raw, jagged. “We need to take this to the police.”

“Look, if we do that, we’ve at least got to tell them about the Evies.”

“I just don’t want to do anything that is going to put Lily in danger.”

“Nor do I. But what choice do we have?”

The voicemail was the key. Whatever was on that recording — it proved she was vulnerable. It proved she wasn’t playing games. Along with the blood sample, it would be enough to make the police ramp up the investigation, to stop treating this like a petty squabble and start treating it like what it really was: a crisis.

Maybe we’ve got to take this to the police.

---

Meanwhile, George had been kept in a cell all night. The injustice of it burned. “Looks like that’s just plain wrong,” someone muttered.

“Well, they’ve got to be thorough, haven’t they? And they’ve got to be seen to be thorough.”

“Yeah, but George… I mean, come on.”

“Try not to worry, right? Adam’s on the case.”

“Maybe they’re just eliminating suspects.”

“Yes, exactly. And given his punchup with Theo, they’re bound to shine the beam on him eventually, aren’t they? I suppose…”

“The people who had bust-ups with Theo were practically queuing around the block.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, Todd.”

“It’s a fact.”

The fear was infectious. What if they sent George to prison? What if they stitched him up?

“That’s not going to happen. Come on. He landed one punch.”

“They could make out that it was more.”

“Stop spiraling. Right. If George is innocent, which we all know he is, then he’s got nothing to worry about.”

“Of course he’s innocent.”

“That’s what I just said.”

“Well, there’s no way that he killed Theo.”

“So, what’s with the if?”

“No, no, lovey. That was just — it was just a figure of speech. Are you going to have a cup of tea or what?”

“No thanks.”

“And when you speak to George, just send him my love. Yeah. Tell him that I haven’t doubted him for a nanosecond.”

“Copy that.”

But the doubt was already there, coiled like a snake in the grass. Yes, I know. I know. She puts me to shame, but I can’t shake it off.

“Todd, you’re telling me there’s not one part of you that’s starting to wonder?”

“Not really. Let’s not go there. Okay.”

The interrogation had taken on a life of its own. “I have watched every cop show going, me, and I know why you are asking me the same thing over and over again. It’s because you’re trying to trip me up. Liars need good memories. Trouble is, I’m not lying.”

“Well, it took you a while yesterday to remember you’ve been for that war, didn’t it?”

“It’s because I panicked. I thought you might get the wrong end of the stick — which you did.”

“All we need from you, Mr. Shuttleworth, is the unvarnished truth.”

The truth. What even was the truth anymore? “How many times did I loathe and detest the guy with bells on? I’m sad that he’s dead. I’m sad for his kids. Otherwise, it’s