Madison was huddled in bed, in floods of tears.
“I miss my dad,” she said over and over. She clung to the duvet and it took all of Cassie’s patience and persuasion to get her up and dressed.
While she was busy with Madison, she heard the click of Trish’s heels on the wooden floor outside, and felt sick with fear as she remembered her threats.
During her long, desperate, and mostly sleepless night, Cassie had considered every alternative, including breaking down in front of the children, pleading innocence, and begging Trish for clemency.
Even though it was her only hope, she was sure Trish would already have anticipated this and thought of a way to counter it.
To Cassie’s relief, Trish just tapped on the door and called out a cheery “Goodbye, Maddie” before heading outside.
Only now had Cassie started to notice how little affection she showed the children. She hadn’t even bothered to come in, give Madison a proper hug, or comfort her. For all his faults, Ryan had been the backbone of the family. He’d been the one who showed them love, and now he was gone and they were left with her.
Cassie could understand exactly why Madison was behaving this way.
“Come on, Madison,” she cajoled. “It’s breakfast time, and you need to eat something before your aunt picks you up. Can I make you a pancake? A bacon sandwich? Toad in the hole?”
“Toad in the hole is supper,” Madison sniffed. “Can I have a bacon sandwich, please?”
Cassie hurried to prepare it. The children had only just finished eating when she heard a car’s horn outside.
She hadn’t met their aunt yet. Heading to the front door while the children got their coats, she remembered that she needed to adhere to the letter of her bail conditions. If she put a foot outside the house, she would be breaking them, and she was sure the aunt knew this.
Never mind just the aunt. This was a small village where everyone would know everyone else’s business soon after the fact. Cassie had no doubt that there were eyes watching her.
She opened the door.
The aunt, Ryan’s sister, was a pleasant-looking woman with curly blonde hair, who looked to be a few years older than Ryan.
“Good morning,” Cassie greeted her.
“Hello, I’m Nadine. Are the children ready?”
“They’re just getting their coats. I’m so sorry for your loss,” Cassie said in a low voice.
Nadine didn’t shake her hand and barely looked her in the eye.
Cassie could feel disapproval—no, antipathy—radiating from her. She guessed that everyone in the village already knew and believed Trish’s version.
“The children will be back at one,” she said.
Madison trailed to the front door, still tearful, but Cassie was encouraged to see that Nadine embraced her in a huge, comforting hug and seemed genuinely concerned and loving.
Dylan followed close behind and also brightened when he saw his aunt.
“Hello, Aunty N. Can we go past the cycling shop on our way?”
“Of course, love. We can spend some time in there if you like.”
Without another word to Cassie, she turned and walked with the children to the car.
Cassie closed the front door and made sure it was locked. Remembering that Trish had warned her about the possibility of journalists arriving, she closed the curtains in the family room and her bedroom, so that nobody could photograph her inside the house.
She felt increasingly desperate as she thought about the day ahead.
Trish had committed this crime. Cassie was being forced to take the blame. But maybe, somehow, she could uncover something that would prove her innocence.
After all, she had a few hours on her own now.
Trish might have hidden the Dictaphone somewhere. If Cassie could find it and destroy it, that would be first prize.
Cassie began a methodical search of the house.
She tidied the kitchen and went through every cupboard. She checked the laundry room and hunted through the garage, rummaging in every box and container on the shelves.
She searched through the family room and checked the children’s rooms carefully.
She found nothing, and although she’d tried to prepare herself for the fact that nothing would be uncovered, she couldn’t help feeling increasingly desperate.
There was one last place to look—the master bedroom.
At that moment, Cassie heard a knock on the front door.
Her heart accelerated, thinking that Trish might be back early and she would be forced to abandon her search before checking the most likely hiding place.
Then common sense returned. Trish wouldn’t knock; she had a key.
This could be a journalist though.
Cassie opened the door a crack and peered suspiciously through it.
The gray-haired woman standing outside did a double take when she saw her.
She was holding a covered plate, and through the glass lid Cassie could see a home-baked pie.
“Hello,” she said.
People were bringing food to comfort the family, and despite her stress, she couldn’t help being touched by the community’s kindness.
But the woman glared at her.
“You’re the au pair? What are you doing here? I thought you were in prison.”
“I—I got bailed out,” Cassie stammered.
“Really?” The woman stared at her suspiciously.
Cassie felt her face flush. Under this woman’s condemning gaze, she felt no better than a criminal.
“Yes. You can call Trish and check if you like, or she’ll be home later this afternoon. Can I take that? Is it for the family?”
“No.” The gray-haired woman clutched the plate. “I’m not leaving it with you. For all I know, you’ll poison it. I’ll stop by again when Trish is back.”
Cassie stared at her, appalled that she felt entitled to speak this way to her face.
“Trish bailed me out,” she tried in a small voice, but the woman was a juggernaut.
“I can’t believe you were given bail. You should be in jail, where you belong. Rest assured, I’ll be attending the trial. Ryan was part of our community. You had no right to seduce him and then take his life. You little whore. You deserve whatever’s coming to you.”
Cassie couldn’t
