Page 158 of The Jealous Girl

‘No one would tell us anything.’ Janine pouted as she finally stepped back.

I sucked in a deep breath, relieved to have space again.

‘Not even the police would answer our questions,’ she huffed. ‘After we came all this way to answer theirs.’

‘They wouldn’t even tell me if my daughter was alright,’ Dad added.

My daughter.

I couldn’t recall the last time he’d called me his daughter.

Janine had always relished reminding me how Mum had abandoned me. But neither of them spoke about the fact that Dad had left us first. For her.

‘We finally managed to get one of those horse people to talk,’ Janine continued. ‘They said you’d been seen getting into an ambulance.’ Her gaze swept over me, assessing me from head to toe. ‘But you don’t look hurt.’

I flinched at the slight hint of disappointment in her voice.

‘I’m not,’ I replied, forcing myself to restrain from adding a sarcastic retort. They were here at least.

‘Thank goodness,’ Janine said, collapsing against Dad as though overcome with relief.

‘But, if you’re not injured, why are you here?’ Dad asked.

‘Ben was knocked unconscious. The doctors are checking him out now.’

They exchanged a look that told me neither of them had any idea who he was.

‘The guy you met at the police station on Friday.’

‘Oh, him,’ Janine said, straightening up. ‘He was very rude.’

‘He wasn’t rude, he was—’ I froze ‘—the only one who actually believed in me.’

The words felt strange to say and yet, I realised now, that’s exactly what he’d done.

Believed in me.

In my innocence.

My worth.

Whereas the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally…

I tugged at the collar of my shirt, the hospital suddenly feeling hot and suffocating.

‘Kirsty, don’t take that tone—’ Dad began.

‘He saved my life.’

‘Well, if that’s so, we’re grateful to him, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to disrespect Janine. Especially after everything she has done for you.’

Done for me?

I blinked.

Ben had done more for me in the last few days than Janine ever had. He’d stood by me. Risked everything for me. Arrest. Prosecution.

The memory of the shotgun in Martin’s hand flashed through my brain.