Epilogue

Guessing it's still raining, then?" Elin hauls herself upright in her hospital bed. Her eyes run over Anna's damp hair, fine droplets of water caught in the hairs escaping her ponytail.

"Hasn't stopped." Anna smiles, too hearty and healthy-looking for the clinical surroundings in her blue hoodie and running tights.

Steed, sitting on the right of her bed, shuffles his chair closer. Reaching into his bag, he pulls out a container of grapes, passes them to her. "Thought I'd do the whole cliché grape thing. Might keep you going until lunch."

Elin laughs, but as she takes the container, there's a pull in her ribs. She winces.

Steed looks at her, concerned. "Still got pain?"

"Yeah, but it's getting better. To be honest, I'm tired more than anything. The infection took it out of me. Thought I was ready to go home, then I got hit by that."

"And the ribs? Fracture healing?"

Slipping a grape into her mouth, she nods. "Just about. I hate the whole not moving thing, but Will says it's doing me good. Enforced relaxation." Smiling, she looks out the window. Cars are winding past the hospital car park, making their way to the bottom of the hill.

"How are things between you and Will?" Anna asks, then casts a panicked look at Steed, clearly wondering if she's gotten too personal in front of him. "Sorry," she mouths.

"It's fine. He knows all the nitty-gritty." Elin flashes him a smile. "To be honest, we haven't really had a chance to speak properly yet, not on that level anyway. Probably wait until I get home."

Anna nods. "And Farrah? She's recovered okay?"

"Physically at least, yes, she was lucky, only superficial damage, but mentally... I think she's still in shock."

"Understandable. It'll take time to work through." Leaning across, Anna plucks a grape from her container. "So what's next? Still planning on the holiday?"

"Yeah. Going with Isaac. We're heading out to the sticks for a bit. His friend has recommended a place." Elin's stomach dips. She's nervous, she realizes, about seeing him. No Will this time. Just the two of them. Alone. Nowhere to hide. "The time away will do me good. Sitting in here, I've had time to think... I've decided I need to try to understand me a bit more."

"Headspace?"

Elin nods. "I keep going over it, and I've realized that I've always convinced myself that what's been driving me is some noble thing about getting answers—living life to the max because Sam couldn't—but it's not that." She gives a brittle laugh. "During this case, it's my father's voice I've heard in my head, calling me a coward. That's what's been driving me. Trying to prove to him, other people, that I'm not."

"And to yourself?" Anna says quietly.

"Yes, I think so, but up there on the rock, the move I made on Caleb, I reckon it's the first time I ever made a decision just for me." Elin hesitates, thinking about the best way to phrase it. "I'm not a coward, like Will said, for doing something I shouldn't, or for doing nothing, like my dad made me believe. The only really cowardly thing I've done is not be true to myself."

"Doing what you want," Steed murmurs.

"Exactly. I need to get to know myself, all the good bits, but the bad bits too." She shrugs. "I want to be sure that when I come back, I'll do what I did up on that rock every time. Make decisions that are mine, no one else's."

Anna's quiet for a moment, before nodding. "As long as you are coming back." She looks between them, smiles. "You two—you're the dream team."

Steed tips his head to one side, as if considering. "Tough decision, but I think I'm okay to work with her again."

Elin grins at him. "Seriously though, thanks, for everything. I didn't get a chance to say it properly before."

"S'all right. For a moment there..." Steed trails off.

She meets his gaze. Neither of them can begin to say it. And they don't need to.

Making a fuss of moving the grapes to her side table, she grabs the packet of Yumnuts Will left her. "Saved one for you." She passes him the box.

Giving her a grateful smile, he digs his hand in, pulls it out. It's gone in two bites.

"So what's happened now, with the case?" Elin asks.

"Postmortems confirmed what we suspected," Anna replies. "Jackson confessed to it all, gave details. Bea Leger was collateral damage, as we thought. From the sound of it, the cliff fall was another option he had planned for dispatching Delaney, but then Bea threw a spanner in the works, forced him to improvise."

"And the cave, the reaper stuff?"

"You were right. All a ruse once he realized that the accident narrative wouldn't stick. Wanted to distract us into thinking the case was linked to the Creacher murders, so he could crack on with getting rid of Ronan Delaney." Steed wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "He told us his father was responsible for the murders Creacher was meant to have committed. Lois Wade too."

"What about Jo Leger?" Elin clears her throat.

Anna frowns, pausing. "That's the one thing that's still bothering me," she says finally. "Jackson's still saying he didn't do it. Steed reckons he's toying with us."

Steed eyes the empty Yumnut box, nods. "I know it happens. A power thing. Not giving every piece of the puzzle away."

"And the tweets? He ever fess up to those?"

Anna falters. "No, but we're pretty sure he's responsible. The fact there's been no messages since..."

Elin nods, discomforted. Until Anna and Steed arrived, she wasn't even sure whether she was going to bring it up. "It's just—"

"What?"

"I'm probably being paranoid, but I've still got this feeling that someone's"—she clears her throat—"someone's been watching me."

"You've seen them?" Steed's brow furrows in concern.

"No, it's more a feeling ." Elin flushes, unsure of how to word it. "The other day someone came past the ward and I thought—" She shrugs, forcing a laugh. "Forget it, probably all the meds making me loopy."

Anna and Steed exchange a glance.

Elin changes the subject. "How's it going with Creacher?"

Steed places a newspaper on the table. "Funny you say that. It's all in here. Not exactly light bedtime reading, so don't feel you have to look if you don't want to." He hesitates. "There's mention of Farrah and Will too."

She scans the headlines, the subhead.

larson creacher has been released from hmp exeter... the police are satisfied that there is sufficient evidence to prove that porter jackson was responsible for the murders of five teenagers in 2003. the police have confirmed that they are not looking for anyone else in relation to these deaths.

Her eyes skip over the text: No further police action will be taken against Farrah and Will Riley.

A rush of relief. Closure. She leans back against the pillow, suddenly tired.

"You look knackered," Anna says, watching her. "We'll leave you to it." Standing up, she leans over the bed, hugs Elin.

Steed bends down, lightly pecks her on the cheek. "If I don't see you before you go on holiday, I want photos, okay? Lots of them."

"Guaranteed. You won't be able to escape my ugly mug. I'm going to be one of those annoying vacation braggers, posting photos every day."

Steed grins, grabbing a last grape from her container as they leave the room.

Watching through the glass as they make their way down the corridor, Elin picks up the newspaper Steed left. She starts flicking, trying to find the article on Creacher, when her phone buzzes.

A message, from a number she doesn't recognize: a screenshot of a tweet.

Her heart seems to stop in her chest midbeat: she doesn't want to look, but at the same time, can't stop herself.

They've tagged Torhun police station again, but this time there's text next to it.

Two lines.

Want to know a story about this detective?

A clue: this one doesn't always tell the truth...

Elin sucks in a breath, but any fear she has of the wording is supplanted by a raw terror at the image below.

A photograph of her in her hospital bed, Steed's newspaper in hand, taken a few moments ago.