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The apartment is empty when I wake, no Ryder and no note this time either. Brushing my disappointment aside, I shower and dress before deciding to message Jamie and see if she’s up for a visitor.
I’m beginning to feel like the only time me and Ryder have any real connection is when we’re fucking. I don’t know if it’s because that’s all we actually have, or because we’re both keeping secrets.
When Jamie’s message comes through more disappointment washes over me as I open it. Things are bad with her mum and dad and she doesn’t think now is a good time. I message her back telling her to call me if she needs anything and we’ll catch up soon.
Another message comes through, I think it’s Jamie, but it’s from an unknown number. Clicking on it, a document fills the screen, and as I zoom in to read it, I can see it’s from a medical examiner. Scanning it quickly a name jumps out at me that has me sucking in air so fast I nearly choke.
Lorraine Eleanor Smith.
It’s an autopsy report that states my mum’s cause of death as asphyxiation, but that’s not possible. The police and hospital said she died of her injuries at the scene.
I’m saton the sofa hearing but not listening to the movement and voices around me. I can see Sean talking to a man I’ve never seen before. I don’t know what they’re saying, all I can hear are the words the policeman told me two hours ago.‘Miss Kasey Smith, there’s been an accident, and I’m very sorry to inform you that Lorraine Smith and Faye Donovan were pronounced dead at the scene.’They run through my head over and over again, and each time, I pray that I misheard him. That he’s wrong, that this news is meant for someone else, and that they should be the ones living this nightmare, this hell. Sean hands the man something then they shake hands, and he leaves.
When Sean turns around, his eyes land on me. Black soulless eyes that warn of danger, telling you to keep away, to run away and don’t look back. He doesn’t seem upset, just so angry, at me mostly, and I don’t understand why. Maybe he blames me and wishes it was me instead. I wish it had been me, him, anyone else but our daughter.
As that memoryfades another one from a few weeks later slams into me.
I gavethe nurse my usual spiel about how I fell down the stairs, again. Anyone with half a brain knows that’s bullshit, and considering I’ve seen this nurse a couple of times before, I know she didn’t believe a word of it. As she placed the sling around my neck, she told me how sorry she was about my mother and daughter. That she was here that day, and how nice it was that Mr Donovan was here with my mum.
At the time,I wasn’t really thinking straight. I was in so much pain from Sean’s latest beating, and still raw from the loss of my mum and daughter, that I hadn’t really paid attention to her words. I was just going through the motions. Now I latch onto the memory, trying to remember everything she said to me that day.
I close my eyes, picturing her in her nurses’ uniform, her black hair tied back in a ponytail and the name badge pinned to her tunic. I see it now, Evelyn Gallow. That’s it. I close the message and open my browser typing in her name. The first hit at the top of the page is for an artist that lives in America, but the next entry is a link to a newspaper article. Clicking it, the page opens, and there’s a picture of Evelyn with her parents at her graduation from nursing school. The article details the murder of Evelyn Gallow, a 24-year-old nurse from London who was found murdered in her flat on the 12th July 2019. I slam my hand over my mouth as I realise that this can’t be a coincidence.
I spend the morning scouring the internet for any information on her murder, and I even do a search on Sean. I don’t find much else on Evelyn, no one was ever caught for her murder, but there are pages and pages of articles and reports about Sean and his links to drugs, sex trafficking, murder and gangs.
I feel sick, dirty, disgusting, and my skin is crawling like it’s alive with a million insects running beneath it. How could I have been so blind and not seen or known any of this about him. Then the anger comes.
Anger at myself, anger at him, anger at my dad for leaving me, and anger at my mum for not warning me about men like that. But it’s wrong to blame my parents. They had a fantastic relationship, and I read the paper and watch the news. I can’t pretend I’m not smart enough to know there’s bad in this world. I had my suspicions about Sean’s dealings, but I chose not to listen, not to believe that a man I loved could be involved in such heinous crimes.
All those feelings of guilt rush back in, but this time, I know it’s not my fault. Oh, I know I’m guilty of falling for his charms, being swept up in the excitement of it all, blinded by the money and the fairy tale every girl dreams of. For falling in love with the wrong man. But all the rest? There’s just one person who’s to blame for that. Sean Donovan.
Shoving to my feet, I pace the bedroom. Then I decide to do something that could ruin any chance of a relationship with Ryder.
Standing outside his office door, I take a deep breath before turning the handle and praying it’s locked, but it isn’t. The door swings open revealing a modern office that wouldn’t look out of place in Canary Wharf. To the right there is a small seating area and in the centre of the room is a large desk with several stacks of papers, but no computer or laptop. Over on the left there’s a tall filing cabinet, with several drawers, including a bottom one that has a lock on it. I step towards the filing cabinet just as the sound of the lift arriving stops me. Quickly retreating, I pull the door closed, part of me relieved I was interrupted and walk out into the kitchen.
Ryder emerges two seconds later deep in concentration at something on his phone. My anger simmers under the surface, and before my brain has a chance to catch up, my mouth opens, and the question pours from it freely.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ryder stops at the sound of my voice. I watch as confusion crosses his face, but in an instant it’s replaced with defeat. Putting his phone in his pocket he walks toward me, but I step back.
“Cam, I wanted to talk to you about her, but then—”
“Hold on.Her?What are you talking about?” My brain scrambles to understand what he’s talking about. He told me that there’s no wife or girlfriend, so who the fuck is he talking about? I frown at him, chewing the inside of my cheek as anxiety ripples through me.
“Come and sit down, Cam.” Ryder edges towards me and gestures to the stools at the breakfast bar. I can see the pleading in his eyes.
“I don’t want to sit down. Talk, Ryder,” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest. I try to connect the dots and just as Ryder goes to speak, the only possible answer hits me. I feel my mouth drop open, and the blood drains from my face as I realise he’s talking about Faye. He knows about my daughter. “Faye.” Her name is a whisper on my lips, and the pain of her loss fractures my heart, along with the pain at his deception.
“Cam.” I hold a hand up, then wave my finger at him as I try to get the words out. Ryder’s eyes are heavy with sorrow, but it does nothing to quiet my anger.
“You…you knew, all this time and you never said anything. Why?” I ask, my voice and body shaking. A rage I’ve not known before comes over me, and I see red. Despite my logical half pushing to take control, I don’t let it. I let the rage free.
“Yes, I knew, but I also knew how painful that loss would have been for you. I didn’t want to cause you pain, Cam. I believed you would talk to me about her when you were ready. When I told you about Kyle, I thought you would have told me then. Realised that I understood your pain.”
“No, no, no!” A derisive laugh leaves me. “Don’t you dare. There is no pain like the loss of a child, Ryder. None.”
“Don’t you think I know that, Cam, huh? I watched what Kyle’s death did to my parents. It fucking ruined them. I’m not trying to compare for fucks sake. Is that how little you think of me?” His voice rises as his own anger begins to show.
I know what he’s saying, but it’s too late for me to stop the destructive fury coursing through me. This news with the message I just received has blinded me to all reason.
