I leave the others in the saloon and go down to my cabin. It’s a long shot, but maybe there’s something on the footage of the challenge that could shed light on what happened to Wolf.
But when I pass Tori’s cabin, I pause. That story Gaia told: every word of it was new to me.
All those times Tori counselled me through break-ups. All those nights knee-deep in red wine, barely watching whatever film it was we’d chosen. Talking about everything, sharing everything. Work stuff, crushes, stories about our families, our childhoods. How she missed her mum, how she felt guilty for not seeing her dad.
The whole time she’d been holding this back. And when it all came bubbling back to the surface for her – the one time she needed me – what did I do? I simultaneously swamped her with my misery and pulled right back, refusing to treat her like a friend.
I made a bad situation a hundred times worse.
I knock. It takes a few attempts, but Tori answers the door and I follow her in. Her eyes are red, swollen. I’ve never seen her look like this. I doubt anyone has.
‘It wasn’t me, Dee. I didn’t hurt anyone.’
‘So why the hell did you bring John out here?’ From the moment we found him in the applications account, she was dead-set on having him in. Beyond normal casting instincts even. John was qualified, certainly, but so were many others. ‘You actively chose him. Why?’
It’s plain from her face that she knows how incredibly reckless it was. ‘I thought: he’s going to come for me anyway. He’s following me around – so what if I’m safer where I can see him?’
I shake my head. ‘But why would you do that, if you thought he was a danger to you?’
‘Because I wanted John to see me. I wanted him to spend time seeing who I am. That I’m …’ She rakes her nails into her hair. ‘That I’m a good person, even though I killed that boy. That I deserve to be forgiven. I thought: if I can just show him that, then maybe …’
She trails off, but I know how the sentence ends.
‘You could forgive yourself,’ I say quietly. But she doesn’t say anything to that. ‘You could have told me, Tori.’
She laughs.
‘But you could have,’ I say. ‘I would have listened.’
‘Dee, I love you, but that’s simply not true. The day I got that letter through the door, you know what you were doing?’
‘No. Obviously.’ I try not to bristle at what I suspect is coming.
She glances at my forearm, the angry burn scar the size of a toddler’s hand, immediately below my elbow. The grief was so thick back then that I barely remember doing it to myself. I pull my cuff down to cover it.
‘That,’ she says, indicating it with the slightest jerk of her head. ‘Those hours we spent waiting in A&E for them to dress it properly, check for nerve damage? I had that piece of paper in my pocket, the whole time.’
Hot shame rises in my face, but something in what she says glints at me, like a coin in river silt. ‘Wait.’ Everything starts to feel very slow. ‘I was there? At your house, when this message came? You’re sure?’
She shrugs. ‘Like I said. You weren’t exactly in a state to be supportive about it.’
‘Do you still have it?’
‘No.’
It takes a force of will to keep my voice steady. ‘Do you have a picture of it?’
‘Why, Dee? What difference does it make?’
‘Did it have your name on it? Like, was it addressed to you, specifically?’
She throws up her hands. ‘It was sent to my house. You killed him – you’re going to pay, it said. Who else—’ she starts, but her voice breaks and she puts her fingertips to her lips. Buds of tears burst at the corners of her eyes. ‘Who else was it going to be for, huh?’
I’m saved from answering her question by a knock at the door. It’s Eino.
He holds up a white card. ‘Did you still want the key to Wolf’s cabin?’