Page 217 of A Good Girl's Guide to Murder

Someone knocked lightly at her bedroom door. Pip dropped her pen on to the blank page.

‘Yes,’ she said, her voice hoarse and small.

The door pushed open and Ravi stepped into the room.

‘Hi,’ he said, flicking his dark hair back from his face. ‘How are you doing?’

‘Not good,’ she said. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘You weren’t replying and I got worried. I saw the posters were gone this morning. Your dad just told me what happened.’ He closed the door and leaned back against it. ‘I’m so sorry, Pip. I know it doesn’t help when people say that; it’s just something you say. But I am sorry.’

‘There’s only one person who needs to be sorry,’ she said, looking down at the empty page.

He sighed. ‘It’s what we do when someone we love dies; blame ourselves. I did it too, Pip. And it took me a long time to work out that it wasn’t my fault; sometimes bad things just happen. It was easier after that. I hope you get there quicker.’

She shrugged.

‘I also wanted to say to you –’ he cleared his throat – ‘don’t worry about the Sal thing for a bit. This deadline we made for taking the photo to the police, it doesn’t matter. I know how important it is to you to protect Naomi and Cara. You can have more time. You already overstretch yourself and I think you need a break, you know, after what’s happened. And there’s your Cambridge exam coming up.’ He scratched the back of his head and the long hair at the front trailed back into his eyes. ‘I know that my brother was innocent now, even if no one else does yet. I’ve waited over five years; I can wait a little longer. And in the meantime I’ll keep looking into our open leads.’

Pip’s heart knotted, voiding itself of everything. She had to hurt him. It was the only way. The only way to make him give up, to keep him safe. Whoever murdered Andie and Sal, they’d shown her they were prepared to kill again. And she couldn’t let it be Ravi.

She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at his kind-without-trying face, or at the perfect smile he shared with his brother, or his eyes so brown and deep you could fall right into them. So she didn’t look.

‘I’m not doing the project any more,’ she said. ‘I’m done.’

He straightened up. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I’m done with the project. I’ve emailed my supervisor telling her I’m changing topic or dropping out. It’s over.’

‘But . . . I don’t understand,’ he said, the first wounds opening up in his voice. ‘This isn’t just a project, Pip. This is about my brother, about what really happened here. You can’t just stop. What about Sal?’

It was Sal she was thinking of. How, above all other things, he would’ve wanted his little brother not to die in the woods as he had.

‘I’m sorry, but I’m done.’

‘I don’t . . . wh . . . look at me,’ he said.

She wouldn’t.

He came over to the desk and crouched in front of it, looking up at her in the chair.

‘What’s wrong?’ he said. ‘Something’s wrong here. You wouldn’t do this if –’

‘I’m just done, Ravi,’ she said. She looked down at him and knew immediately that she shouldn’t have. This was so much harder now. ‘I can’t do it. I don’t know who killed them. I can’t work it out. I’m finished.’

‘But we will,’ he said, desperation sculpting his face. ‘Wewillwork it out.’

‘I can’t. I’m just some kid, remember.’

‘An idiot said that to you,’ he said. ‘You’re notjustsome anything. You’re Pippa fricking Fitz-Amobi.’ He smiled and it was the saddest thing she’d ever seen. ‘And I don’t think there’s anyone in this world quite like you. I mean, you laugh at my jokes, so there must be something wrong with you. We’re so close to this, Pip. We know Sal’s innocent; we know someone framed him for Andie and then killed him. You can’t stop. You swore to me. You want this just as much as I do.’

‘I’ve changed my mind,’ she said flatly, ‘and you won’t change it back. I’m done with Andie Bell. I’m done with Sal.’

‘But he’s innocent.’

‘It’s not my job to prove that.’

‘You made it your job.’ He pushed against his knees and stood over her, his voice rising now. ‘You barged your way into my life, offering me this chance I never had before. You can’t take that away from me now; you know I need you. You can’t give up. This isn’t you.’