He’d explained about the argument to the detectives who’d questioned him. No law had been broken, had it? But still, he’d felt sickened by the way they regarded him, their eyes probing, judging. So many memories had fallen away, but not that one. It was etched far deeper than the others. He was in that sad, boxy room for only three hours before his release—but it had felt like years.
And during those three hours, not once did he confess the truth of his last encounter with Julia Bell, several hours after the kids spied her entering the woods.
The rucksack shifted on his back and the corner of the VHS tape dug into his spine, snapping him out of it. When he’d come around two days ago, sprawled on the kitchen floor in his shabby dressing gown, it had taken him a moment to remember what had
