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‘You let yourself into my apartment after leaving Andrew’s, with the key you know I keep under the mat outside.

You go to that tool kit you bought me when I moved in.

I’d never even used it. You open it and you find what you’re looking for, something you can kill a person with.

You find the hammer. You get in your car.

You drive home, but not to come home, to go to the Masons’ house.

Out of the car, around the side of the house, so the doorbell camera doesn’t catch you.

You know that Scott and Dianne will be cleaning up after the fair, that Jet will be home alone.

Maybe you try that side door, and if it had been locked, maybe you would have let it go, gone home.

But it wasn’t locked. Nothing stopped you.

You went inside the house and you killed her.

Hit her twice in the back of the head. Then, when she was on the ground, one last hit to the side of her head, to really make sure.

She was dead – we all thought she was dead, including you.

’ Billy’s voice caught, a snag in his throat.

‘The dog is screaming, making too much noise. Neighbors will hear that. You don’t have much time.

You take Jet’s phone, and you grab a dish towel on the way out, to wrap the hammer in.

You drive to North Street, only takes a couple of minutes.

You need to hide the phone, because that makes it look like the killer was someone Jet was in regular contact with, maybe her ex-boyfriend.

And the murder weapon, because that weapon is a link back to me, which means it’s a link back to you.

But you know somewhere you can put them, where no one will ever find them, because concrete was going to be poured on top in just a few hours’ time.

You remember to turn Jet’s phone off, just before you get there.

You think no one will ever find them at the construction site, that they’ll stay buried forever.

‘Then you wait in your squad car for the call to come in on the radio. Rushed over to the scene like you were just a cop, doing his job. I bet you didn’t expect that I’d be the one to find her. You didn’t plan that, did you?’

Tears stung at the corner of Billy’s eyes. He’d had to do that twice. Hold the woman he loved in his arms as she lay dying.

‘But Jet didn’t die. Not yet.’ Billy’s eyes blurred, doubled, the world splitting, just until he blinked and the tears raced to his chin.

‘It was Jet who figured most of this out, not me. She did it. We just needed a couple more hours, that’s all we needed.

Then Jet would have known it was you too.

She died not knowing.’ He cried, couldn’t stop it now.

‘I would have let her die thinking it was me, so that she had that. I was going to give her that, I wanted her to have that, I thought she needed it.’

But Jet hadn’t needed the answer in the end, Billy knew now. She’d found something else, more important. And Billy had learned something too, when he was holding her, when the world was coming to an end, crashing down around them and he confessed because he thought he had to.

He’d finally let something go in that moment.

Not the girl he loved – that would never leave him – but his need to be loved back, to fill the hole his mom had left in his heart.

Billy could be loved, and he had been. He kept Jet’s letter close, folded inside his jacket pocket, even now. Especially now, the day she went into the ground, buried forever.

‘That’s right, isn’t it?’ he choked. ‘All of it. Most of it. You killed Jet for Luke, for yourself. Because you were angry, because you felt betrayed by Dianne, because you thought there was this life that had been stolen from you and you wanted to punish Jet’s parents for taking it.

Punish the woman you loved who now hated you, by taking her other daughter.

You chose Luke, because he’s the person you care most about in this world.

And to do that, you took the person I care most about in this world. Look at me, Dad!’

‘Billy, I don’t know what to say.’ He raised his hands. ‘I think you’re grieving, and you’re confused.’

‘You do know what to say!’ Billy’s voice cracked again, a thousand pieces. ‘Jet wanted you to confess, so confess!’

He reached behind him, under his shirt, fingers gripped around the cold metal.

Billy pulled out the gun.

Aimed it at his father’s chest.

He didn’t shake.

The world shook around him, but Billy stood still. So still.

Dad stumbled back, tripping on the stairs, hands raised above his head as he landed, hard.

‘Where did you get the gun, Billy?’

‘Confess, Dad!’

‘Billy, I –’

Billy flicked the safety off, pointed higher, at his head.

‘– Confess,’ he said, didn’t need to shout, had no voice left for it. ‘Did you kill Jet?’

His dad flinched, raised his hands higher, in front of his face, shielding his head. ‘Yes. Yes, Billy, I did. You’re right. Please, put down the gun.’

Billy didn’t move.

‘Are you sorry?’

‘Billy.’

‘Are you sorry, Dad?’

His head slumped, eyes crashing to Billy’s feet, more ghosts behind them now, too heavy. ‘Yes,’ he said, barely a whisper. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘Why?’ Billy still didn’t shake. ‘Why are you sorry?’

Dad lowered his hands, pressed them against his chest, crinkling his dark suit.

‘It was when we arrived at the construction site, after you’d found the phone, the hammer. I was watching you, Billy. Saw the way you looked at Jet. It’s the same way I used to look at Dianne. I didn’t know.’

‘That I loved her? That I’d loved her every single day since I was a little boy? That she was everything to me?’

‘I’m sorry.’ He hung his head, made Billy aim at the gray hair on top.

‘Would you have still killed her, if you’d known?’

‘I don’t know, Billy,’ he cried. ‘I don’t know why it happened.

I was just so angry at everyone, at everything, and I only saw one way out, didn’t stop long enough to think it all through.

Something else took over, like the day Emily died.

I just did what I had to do, to protect Luke. To help my son.’

‘But I’m your son too!’ Billy roared. ‘I’m yours too! I’m the one who was here, who was always here! And you never even saw me, especially after Mom left!’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry doesn’t bring Jet back. She’s gone, Dad. I lost her.’

His chest seized, closing in around his heart, hiding it. It belonged to Jet, always would, he thought. But it belonged to Billy now too, shared, one half each.

‘Where did you get the gun, Billy?’

‘This.’ Billy flicked his gaze to the gun in his right hand.

‘It belongs to Henry Lim. He let us borrow it. Doesn’t want his brother to go to prison forever, for killing Jet.

JJ didn’t kill Jet. I know you tried very hard to make it look like he did, wrapped a neat little story around all that circumstantial evidence.

Was it hard to convince Detective Ecker, or was he happy to take the easy way out, the simplest explanation? ’

‘Billy –’

‘– I can’t live with that, Dad,’ Billy sniffed, pushing on before he lost his nerve.

He wouldn’t lose it, because Jet was right here with him, and she was the brave one, dangerous little smile and her old-man laugh.

‘I’m the one who has to live, that’s what Jet told me, and I can’t live with this.

You , getting to walk around with her blood on your hands, while JJ goes to prison for the rest of his life for something he didn’t do.

All for Luke. Why did you do this?!’ Billy’s voice grated, tearing at his throat. ‘Why do you care about Luke so much?!’

‘Because he’s mine!’ Dad cried. ‘And because he’s Dianne’s. He’s ours!’

‘And you think Luke would have wanted you to do this? Kill his little sister?’

Dad put his hands up again, eyes dark and urgent.

‘He would understand,’ he said. ‘I did it for him. I look out for him, always have. He won’t have the same life I did, people taking what should have been mine.’ He shook his head, something stirring in his eyes as he stared down the barrel of the gun.

Billy tightened his grip. ‘I promised Jet, as she was dying, that I was going to finish this for her. So that’s what I’m doing.’

‘No, Billy, no!’ Dad begged. ‘Don’t kill me. Please. Put the gun down!’

‘OK.’ Billy loosened his grip, the gun swinging around his finger. He placed it on the table, beside his phone.

‘OK?’ Dad was confused, gaze flickering between Billy and the gun.

‘I’m not going to kill you, Dad. I hate you, but I’m not like you,’ Billy said. He picked up his phone instead, tapped the screen. ‘I got what I came for.’

Dad pushed up to his feet, wiped his face.

‘You were recording me, is that it?’ He gestured to Billy’s phone, lines of sweat striping his temple.

‘You think you can take that to the police, that they’ll arrest me and you get your ending?

’ His face tensed, almost a sad smile, not quite making it.

‘That’s not how it works, Billy. A recording like that, it’s not evidence, it’s not admissible in court, especially as you coerced it out of me, a gun in my face. That’s not how this works.’

‘I know, Dad. I’m not an idiot. I am more than you think I am. Not just poor, sweet Billy.’ He sniffed, waved his phone. ‘I wasn’t recording you. But someone was listening. Just one person.’

The ghosts came back, behind Dad’s eyes, mouth dropping open.

‘Who?’ he whispered.

‘Me.’

The voice rang out behind them, through the front door Billy had left ajar.

Luke.

Crisp white shirt, a black tie too tight around his reddening neck. His phone in his hand, by his side.

Dad swallowed, the color draining from his face, from his eyes somehow too, graying hair and grayscale skin. ‘Luke. I can explain. None of that was true. He was pointing a gun at me. I didn’t –’

‘– You killed Jet,’ Luke said, voice dark and deep, something ticking by his jaw, beneath the skin.

‘No! I just said that because –’