Good Girl, Bad Blood

She stayed there, clicking through for hours, jumping from article to article, comment to comment. And it was with her too, of course. It always was.

The gun.

It was here now, beating within her chest, knocking against her ribs. Aiming with her eyes. It was in nightmares, and crashing pans, and heavy breaths, and dropped pencils, and thunderstorms, and closing doors, and too loud, and too quiet, and alone and not, and the ruffle of pages, and the tapping of keys and every click and every creak.

The gun was always there.

It lived inside her now.

Welcome to season two of A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder – The Disappearance of Jamie Reynolds

‘I bet everyone dreads the day they get a knock at the door from Pip Fitz-Amobi,’ Ravi whispered.

‘Oh, that’s a . . . that’s a shame,’ Pip coughed.

‘If I had words to make a day for you, I’d sing you a morning golden and new. I would make this day last for all time. Give you a night deep in moonshine.’

‘If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself,’

It makes me so angry that this kind of cross-examination of victims is allowed. It almost shifts the burden of proof on to them, and it isn’t fair.

Maybe I don’t have to be good, or other people’s versions of good. And maybe I don’t have to be likeable.’

‘Do you care?’ Charlie asked. ‘Do you care what people think, if you know you’re right?’

Come on,’ Pip said, suppressing a smile, patting him twice on the backside as they walked up the path alongside the car