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She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting on the kitchen floor. She was barely aware of her surroundings, preferring to withdraw inside her head and block out the scene in front of her. All her limbs were freezing, and she couldn’t remember anything beyond the knife going into the neck of the man she’d believed to be Haiden Lindgren, but who was actually a stranger called Filip Nilsson.
Outside, the familiar hum of car engines approached, punctuated by the slamming of car doors. Still, she remained in the exact same position.
Movement came in the doorway. She recognised the uniform of police officers. Perhaps she should have been relieved to see them, but she felt nothing. Only cold and detached.
“Ms Scott?”
“He’s dead,” she called out, her voice trembling.
One of the police officers stepped more fully into the room, spotting the body. “Shit.” Then he called out, “In here!”
Was she going to be arrested for murder? She’d killed him. In that moment, she’d wanted him dead. Haiden—no, Filip—had been right when he’d said she had that capacity for violence inside her.
“Ms Scott? Are you all right?” The police officer came and crouched beside her. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
“You’re bleeding.” He gestured to her leg.
Dumbly, she glanced down at her thigh to discover her jeans were dark and wet. Of course, she’d stabbed herself accidentally when he’d thrown her to the floor. She’d completely forgotten. Was that why she was so cold? A volley of coughing clutched at her lungs and she spluttered and hacked until her eyes streamed.
“We need a paramedic in here,” he called out. “And we’re going to need the coroner’s office, too.”
She was only vaguely aware of more people entering the room. An older man in a suit approached her. “Ms Scott. I’m Detective Superintendent Miles. We spoke on the phone.”
“If I go to prison,” she said, her voice not sounding as though it belonged to her, “will you make sure my sister looks after my son?”
“You won’t be going to prison. There will be an enquiry, of course, but we know what kind of man Filip Nilsson is. Was. He’s wanted for three other deaths in Sweden. We can see this was clearly self-defence.”
Three other deaths? Deaths that didn’t include the real Haiden.
He touched her arm, trying to be reassuring, but she jerked away.
“Don’t worry about any of that now,” he said. “We’re going to take you to the local hospital and get you checked over. There’ll be plenty of time to go through the events leading up to now when you’re doing better.”
She nodded and allowed him to help her to her feet. She struggled to put weight on her bad leg, but he supported her. As they moved at a slow lurch through the cottage, she couldn’t tear her eyes from the body.
The man she’d killed.
The cold she’d been experiencing went right down to her soul. She was responsible for a man’s death. The life she’d been living for the past month had been a lie. She’d had a murderer in her home, living under the same roof as her son.
Kristen lowered her head and barked out a sob.
He’d hurt Felix, and Stephen, too. She’d brought this man into their lives. What could have happened if the police hadn’t discovered who he really was? Who would have been next? Would he have set his sights on Violet, or even Ollie? She couldn’t stand the thought of it.
She went over the things he’d said before he’d died. Had he truly believed he was helping her by harming Felix and Stephen?
No, he had a twisted mind. He just used her as an excuse to hurt people.
“This wasn’t your fault,” Detective Superintendent Miles told her, as though reading her thoughts. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. You could have been anyone.”
Her heart twisted. Was that supposed to make her feel better? She’d finally found a man she’d believed she might even be able to love again, and it turned out that he was a murderer, and not only that, she could have been anyone? Was it better or worse to think that there may have been the tiniest amount of truth in their relationship? That some of it may have been real.
Her head hurt trying to think about it.
They stepped outside. It was fully dark now, and the fresh, cool air went some way to bringing her out of her stupor. She suddenly realised how much her leg hurt and how tight her chest was.
She remembered something. “My phone. I threw it out of the bathroom window.”
He nodded. “We’ve got it. I’m afraid it’s going to need to be used as evidence.”
She hadn’t thought of that. “What about my family?”
“They’re being kept informed about you. We’ll let them know what hospital you’re being taken to, and they can meet you there.”
As though he’d conjured up the vehicle, the lights of an ambulance rumbled down the little lane towards the cottage. It pulled to a halt, and two paramedics jumped out and ran to her.
“We’ll talk again later,” the inspector said, before patting her on the arm and vanishing back inside the cottage.
***
SHE WAS TAKEN TO HOSPITAL to be treated for concussion, shock, and the inhalation of the powder from the fire extinguisher.
“Mummy!”
Ollie ran into the room, shortly followed by Violet.
Kristen pushed herself to sitting in the hospital bed, trying not to wince at her now bandaged leg. She’d needed stitches, but otherwise she’d escaped relatively unharmed. She’d been very lucky. Tears filled her eyes at the sight of her family, and she put her arms out for Ollie to clamber into.
“Be careful of your mum,” Violet warned.
“No, it’s fine,” she said, hugging Ollie tight, pressing her nose into his soft hair and inhaling the scent of him. Was there any smell in the world that was better? “I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you. I love you so much, and I totally take you for granted. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Violet said. “None of this is your fault.”
Kristen wished she could believe her. Silent tears streamed down her face, dampening Ollie’s hair.
“He tricked everyone, Kristen.” Her sister took her hand to offer her some comfort. “It wasn’t just you. It was everyone he met. Shit, even I thought he was a good guy.”
“Aunty Vi!” Ollie scolded. “You used a swear word.”
Kristen exchanged a teary smile with Violet, knowing that what had happened deserved more than just one swear word.
Kristen shook her head. “I’m still struggling to believe this isn’t all one bad dream. How did I not know who he was?”
“The university messed up, big time. And so did the authorities when they didn’t check his passport properly. This isn’t your fault.”
She sniffed and nodded. “I know.”
But even though she knew what her sister was saying was the truth, she still couldn’t get her head around it. She’d cared about a man who’d been dead in an unmarked grave for the past month. No, it hadn’t been him she’d cared about. It had been the Haiden that Filip Nilsson had created.
A forgery. A ghost. A shadow.
Her Haiden had never existed.