Page 151 of Dying Truth

Kim saw Dawson’s fiancée at the front, supported by her mum and dad. His child, Charlotte, would now grow up without him by her side. Oh, how she wished she could gather up all these memories and give them to her, so she would one day know the man he had been. How he had matured from the selfish, pig-headed man she’d first met to the one who wanted promotion to give his family a better life.

She spied Woody sitting beside Bryant and Stacey.

She saw Stacey’s back lift now and again with an uncontrollable sob.

She watched as Bryant’s arm snaked around her shoulders.

She knew that the rest of her team needed her there, beside them. To share, to mourn. But there was a familiarity, a welcome affinity to the starkness inside her. She felt it and she knew it and it comforted her.

For as long as she could remember her mind had been formed of boxes. Every one contained something that had the power to hurt her, to reach the depths of her soul and break her apart.

There was a box building in her head, and her heart. She could feel its construction and she had to make a choice.

Go forward and join her team and share in their grief, help them understand the loss of their friend, feel their pain and share with them her own. It was what they needed her to do.

She took one last look at the photo of Detective Sergeant Kevin Dawson that stood on the coffin, before she turned and walked away.

Epilogue

Geoffrey Piggott wiped at his forehead with a handkerchief. The handkerchief of the man that had saved his life.

He still couldn’t think of that night without the lump forming in his throat. At first, he hadn’t been able to believe his eyes when the police officer had found him at the top of the tower. He had already convinced himself he was going to die, pictured himself falling and his bones smashing against the ground.

But Detective Sergeant Dawson had made him a promise and kept it.

He had cried for two days straight, wishing he could take it back, begging for the man who had been so nice to him not to die. And then he had started to focus only on the man’s courage, his determination to get what he wanted.

The memory had driven him downstairs to his parents. He had told them that he wasn’t academically gifted, no matter what they believed. He had told them he wanted a fresh start at his local school.

They had agreed.

Geoffrey knew the insults would be no different. The kids there would call him names too. But he now knew he was strong enough to take it.

If Detective Sergeant Kevin Dawson had managed to find the courage to make changes to his life and become the manhehad, then Geoffrey owed it to him to do the exact same thing.

He no longer had sporting heroes, or athletic gods that he looked up to. He didn’t fawn over rich, fickle reality stars or short-term pop stars. He had been lucky enough to know a real hero.

And that’s what had brought him here, to make the first of many changes that would help him become the man he wanted to be.

‘You coming in?’ asked the female attendant, nodding towards the doors that led into the gym.

He took a breath, reached for his bag and followed her through.

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