by Emmy Ellis
“Rhetorical question, I take it?”
“Yes.”
“We aim to find out. We also want to establish whether she was your full sister or half. If full, I’d like to know, if your mother lived with you and your father, just where they shipped your sister off to, only for her to reappear years later, giving the impression she was his wife. I’ve looked at the file, and your father ‘married’ her, as you know, although you thought he’d just married a younger woman.”
Her body didn’t belong to her anymore. It shook, and she couldn’t stop it.
“In light of this revelation, they’ve decided to reopen the Collier case. Go over it in minute detail. They want to make sure it was your sister who killed John…and not someone else.”
“Of course it was her! Who else could it be?” Me! It’s fucking me!
“That’s the question, isn’t it.”
The room spun. Tracy struggled to draw in air.
Compose your-fucking-self! Don’t lose it now. Not when you’re so close to having a proper, decent life.
She schooled her features into a Tracy she’d promised herself she’d get rid of. The bitch was back. She couldn’t get through this without her.
“Fine, sir. Can I go now?”
“Do you need some time? The rest of the day off? A week?” Winter looked at her, concern pinching his features.
“No, thank you, sir. I’d rather just get on with my job. Keep myself occupied.”
She walked out of the room on trembling legs, struggling to appear her usual self—whichever one of her selves that was.
As she strode down the corridor towards the incident room, Damon came out and turned as if to go down the stairs. A lump formed in her throat at the sight of his dear face, and she knew, knew it wasn’t over.
Because she still had all her fears.
