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O llie had feared welcoming life on the outside to life on the inside. They always felt incompatible in his head, but with Leo regularly visiting and Teddy being as supportive as ever, they gelled. Ollie really could have it all. His brother and his lover. Life was good.

He dropped another unopened letter from Howard into his bottom drawer, then crouched down to slip the container out from under Teddy’s bed.

In the last few days, the caterpillars had entered their pupa stage, hardening into crispy-looking nuggets. They swelled in size, leaving Ollie nauseous when faced with them.

Teddy was pleased. It was the first time he’d managed to get the caterpillars to that stage.

Ollie pushed them back beneath the bed.

Teddy told him it would take roughly two weeks.

Two weeks until butterflies would bless their cell with colour and beauty.

Ollie didn’t like them as caterpillars, or pupae, but he did look forward to seeing them as butterflies, fluttering around their cell. More than that, he wanted to see Teddy’s expression when it happened.

“I don’t understand it.” Leo screwed up his face. “Howard said he’s sent you letters.”

Not Mr Nobel, but Howard .

Ollie averted his gaze. “I haven’t got any—”

“Is there another Oliver Linton in the prison?”

“There could be.”

Leo huffed, slouching in his chair.

Maggie, who’d been watching the exchange, touched Leo’s shoulder. “You couldn’t be a dear and get me a tea, could you?”

“Sure.” Leo got to his feet. He trudged away, hunching with defeat.

Once he was out of earshot, Maggie leaned over the table. “Are you sure you haven’t received any letters?”

The hairs on the back of Ollie’s neck lifted at her accusation. He was lying, but still, he didn’t appreciate being called out on it. “I haven’t.”

“Howard is a good man. He’s respectable. He’s the perfect person to represent you during your appeal.”

“There is no appeal,” Ollie hissed while watching his brother across the room.

“Of course there is. Just because you didn’t appeal immediately, that doesn’t take away your right to—”

“I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

Maggie eyed him with sadness again. It was the fourth time they’d visited, and the first time they’d been left alone together.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you pity me.” Ollie shook his head. “I don’t need to be pitied.”

“Ollie. It’s not pity. It’s regret. I should’ve done something.”

“I’m nothing to you.”

“You’re my nephew. Me and Asher both knew about your father’s violent outbursts when he’d been drinking. You might not remember, but he threw a wine bottle—”

“I remember,” Ollie interrupted.

“We cut him out of our lives, left you and Leo on your own with him.”

“Asher was there at my sentencing. He was quite vocal about me being a problem child and deserving what would come to me.”

Maggie lowered her gaze. “He was hurting over his brother’s death. He always thought they might reconcile at some point. But recently, with Leo opening up to us more and more about what it was like at home all those years, he’s started to listen.”

“Good for him,” Ollie said, turning away.

Maggie sighed. “Do you know what Leo did after he read all your letters?”

Ollie shook his head.

“He started looking for someone to represent you.”

Ollie gritted his teeth and looked down.

“His hope was to get one, maybe two years off your sentence. He feels responsible—”

“He shouldn’t. I’ve told him he shouldn’t.”

“He still does, though.” Maggie shot him a pained smile. “Is it really so bad to speak to Howard?”

“You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?”

Ollie lowered his voice further. “I don’t want to get out of here.”

Maggie frowned. “You’d rather be locked in a cell than out, able to spend time with your brother again?”

Ollie flinched. “That’s not what I said.”

“He’s been calling and emailing your old teachers, parents of kids you used to go to school with, even your father’s ex-girlfriends, asking for help, asking for them to back up his claims about what it was like for you and him and do you know what?”

“What?”

“All of the people he’s contacted had a story to tell him. All of them gave him something, and they all want to help. They saw the bruises, they didn’t believe your excuses, they felt an atmosphere, a vibe, a gut feeling. All of them, me included, knew.”

“Knew what?” Ollie snapped.

“You were being abused by your father. He hurt you, and it wasn’t just physical. That man broke you down until you were a shell of yourself, nothing but his verbal and physical punching bag, and he would’ve started on Leo too.”

Ollie’s throat tightened. “Did Leo tell you about his bruises?”

Maggie nodded. “You hit the side of your head on the kitchen table after your father punched you. It knocked you out cold. Leo screamed at him. He kneed Leo several times in the stomach, then went upstairs.”

“I shouldn’t have…. I shouldn’t have—”

“Been knocked out? You had no control over that.”

Ollie glanced over to Leo by the tuck shop. He had a cup of tea in hand, but he didn’t come any closer. He watched from afar, waiting for their conversation to end.

“Was that…was that the only time?”

He needed to know.

“He told us it was only once.”

Ollie slipped down his chair, exhaling as he went.

“He told us it happened to you all the time, though. He saw. He heard.”

“If you all knew, then why didn’t you do anything?”

Maggie hung her head. “I can’t speak for others, but I…I pushed it to the back of my mind. I forgot about you and Leo because it was easier, because in my head, it wasn’t my responsibility, it was your father’s to sort himself out. I didn’t do anything because I’m a coward, and I chose to do what was easy rather than what was right. I live with that. Always will. I can’t go back and be there, but I can be there now.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need you or anyone else. I won’t appeal to clear anyone’s guilty conscience.” He shook his head. “They shouldn’t feel guilty anyway. I denied everything, kept it secret, didn’t want others getting involved—”

“But they knew it was happening. You were a child. You needed help, and there was no one there. It’s no wonder what happened…happened.”

“You want to help me now?”

“Yes.” Maggie looked like she was about to reach for his hand across the table but stopped herself.

“Tell Leo there’s no point. He should focus on something else and stop telling Howard to send me letters.”

“So you are getting his letters?”

Ollie closed his eyes in a long blink.

Maggie sighed. “He’s set his heart on getting you out of here. It’s the first thing he thinks about when he gets up and the last thing before he goes to bed. He searches the internet at all hours, trying to find people. He’s got a whole folder of evidence he’s pulled together.”

“Evidence of what?”

“Abuse that can support either diminished responsibility or a lack of control plea.”

“There’s no way that will work.”

“Howard thinks you have a good chance.”

“Has everyone forgotten what I did?” Ollie glared. “Twenty times.”

“No one has forgotten, but those nine years of abuse weren’t even considered at your sentencing, nor were Leo’s bruises, or the blow you took from your father two weeks before or the fact the only income was yours, supporting your father and your brother by working as many hours as you could at the local shop. You were exhausted, trapped, desperate.”

“I pleaded guilty to murder because that’s what I’m guilty of.”

“If it was Leo who’d snapped that night, not you, wouldn’t you do everything you could to bring him home?”

“But it wasn’t—”

“If. I said if .”

Ollie slumped, defeated. “I don’t want to leave. I’m happier here.”

“Only because you don’t know what it could be like on the outside. You can be happy with us too. There’s a home for you; it’s waiting.”

“I have a home here.”

She hit him with a pitying look again.

“I do,” he defended.

“Just…read what Howard has to say.” Maggie turned to smile at Leo. It was his cue to return to the table. He didn’t ask what they’d been discussing, but he did dart looks between Ollie and his auntie.

“How’s Jess?” Ollie asked, bluntly moving the subject on to something new.

Leo blushed furiously, then replied she was fine. No more was said about Howard or the idea of an appeal, but it lingered in the back of Ollie’s mind.

When Ollie returned to the cell, Teddy was elsewhere. He pushed the door closed, kneeled in front of the drawers and pulled out the last letter he’d received from Howard Noble.

Ollie shifted to get comfortable, crossing his legs, then opened the letter.

Howard introduced himself and said he was writing to Ollie after speaking with Leo and his legal guardian, Maggie.

The appeal centred on the manslaughter plea of loss of control with attributing factors. Ollie frowned. Loss of control. It had felt like that at the time, like his body reacted without his brain’s consent.

By Ollie’s own admission, he kept a knife beneath his pillow for months for self-defence for him and his brother.

He only used it on his father after he’d seen Leo’s bruises and realised what must have happened. That had been the trigger. He feared for Leo’s safety.

It wasn’t revenge; he wanted to make sure it couldn’t happen again.

Failing once was bad enough.

It had hollowed him out completely.

It took away his soul.

He had to make sure his father never got a chance to hurt Leo again, and to hell with the consequences.

Howard was confident that if they could prove the abuse, diminished responsibility would also be considered, with Ollie suffering from mental instability at the time due to almost a decade-long torment he’d endured at the hands of his father.

Howard proposed both pleas were also supported by self-defence, just not in the traditional sense. Ollie was not under threat at the time of the attack, but he did fear he and his brother would be under threat again if he didn’t intervene in a pattern of behaviour.

The words all started to blur, so Ollie closed his eyes, easing out a breath.

He didn’t realise Teddy had not only managed to open the door without him noticing but had stepped into the cell.

“Hey,” Ollie blurted, jumping to his feet. He hid the letter behind his back, earning him a frown. Teddy had already seen. “Good workout?”

Teddy grunted.

Ollie dropped the letter back into the bottom drawer, but Teddy pinned it with his foot before Ollie could shove it closed.

“It’s nothing,” Ollie said. “Those spam letters I told you about.”

Teddy raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, so maybe they’re not spam.”

Teddy’s eyebrow lifted higher.

Ollie slumped. “Leo got in contact with some guy who thinks he might be able to get me out of here.”

A stuttered breath left Teddy. His complexion paled as he took a step back, wide-eyed, and mouth flapping.

“I’m not interested,” Ollie said quickly. “I’m not going to appeal.”

He got up, took a step towards Teddy, but a hand shot up, blocking him from getting closer. Ollie glanced at the trembling hand, then to Teddy’s devastated face. Teddy no longer looked him in the eye; he stared solemnly at the ground.

“I’m happy right where I am,” Ollie whispered. “With you.”

Teddy sighed sadly through his nose.

“I mean it.” He crouched down to shove the drawer shut, hiding the letters and the plan that might take him from Teddy.

He didn’t want that, and from the way Teddy appeared to shrink in on himself, he didn’t want that either.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Although his gut twisted a notch with thoughts of Leo on the outside, the tentative glance Teddy shot him loosened it again. It was hope. Teddy’s chest rose and fell, quicker and quicker, as he risked another look at Ollie.

Those three words were on the tip of Ollie’s tongue again, but he didn’t speak them. He shot to his feet, pushing his chest against Teddy’s hand. He pushed and pushed until Teddy pulled his hand away and Ollie fell chest to chest against him.

He looked up at Teddy through his lashes. “Hi…”

Teddy smiled, but it was fragile. He stroked Ollie’s hair, gazing down at him like he might disappear at any moment.

“You’re not going to lose me.”

Teddy squeezed his eyes shut. Ollie beat a gentle fist to his chest. “You’re not.”

Teddy captured Ollie in a hug, resting his chin on the top of Ollie’s head; he swayed them.

Ollie relaxed against him.

Freedom. His brother. Life on the outside.

It wasn’t enough.

Not if it meant losing Teddy.