“Who’s Hilary?” Barbara asks.
“The scout,” Lily-Anne replies, her eyes never leaving mine. There’s pity there. Pity for me.
It’s almost unbearable. I can’t breathe in this house. I came in here contemplating revenge.
It hasn’t changed a thing. It hasn’t brought Natalie back.
And without proof, how can I make him desist in what he’s doing to Lily-Anne, circling her brightness, turning her spark into his stage?
He’ll always be who he is.
And suddenly, I realise what Nova’s ghost—what I—wanted me to see. It was never about atonement or about punishing myself. It’s not even about punishing Jack.
It was about recognising the truth.
I’ve spent years living in penance for a sin that wasn’t mine, confusing guilt for love, grief for duty.
But I understand now: Nova’s death was never mine to carry.
I glance at Lily-Anne, and my chest twists. I want to save her, to warn her that Jack’s cruelty isn’t an accident but a pattern. Except it would rattle her before one of the biggest nights of her life. And whatever Jack’s contrived,this opportunity is hers too. She’s good enough to make it without him.
I won’t risk destabilising her confidence before tonight—not more than I already have. I’ve said what needed saying. The rest will come in time.
So I leave the room.
Lily-Anne calls my name, and Rupert shouts for me to stay, about how it’s my party, I’m the host—but I cannot stay a minute longer.
The house is thick with smoke, the kind that clings to hair and skin, but as I fight my way to the exit.
An unexpected memory flashes in my mind, one that was lost to me until now: Nova laughing as we rode our bicycles down a narrow country lane in her hometown, eucalyptus leaves and bark crunching beneath our wheels, the sky blue, the air hot and dry.
I’m grateful to remember her that way. Joyful and carefree.
And in that remembering, something loosens. The last of the guilt finally lets go, and the smoke engulfing the house thins.
Then I see her, standing at the exit, bright light pouring in around her.
Not Nova, but Natalie.
Her face is free of makeup, her hair in a loose braid, her expression soft. She looks at me, eyes wet, and gives a determined nod before vanishing.
Deep in my heart, I know I won’t see her ghost again.
Outside, it’s another blue sky.
Once I’m in the car and on the road, the air clears.
The ache doesn’t.
31
This One’s Mine
Lily-Anne
I chase after him, but his car is already halfway down the lane.
“Brandon!” My voice cracks, snatched by the wind and carried out to sea.
