Page 64 of Rich Little Liars

I smile and move around the kitchen. Keep my hands busy. Find the liquor. The simple ritual of making coffee feels grounding. Normal. Like something a person with an ordinary life might do on an ordinary evening.

‘You’re not obligated to stay,’ I say, not looking at him. ‘I know you’ve already gone above and beyond. If you need to get home…’

‘My apartment is empty. My daughter’s three hundred miles away, living with her mother. And the only thing waiting for me is a microwave meal and whatever’s on TV.’ He leans against the counter, arms folded. ‘Unless you’d rather be alone?’

The question hangs there. I consider it properly – the option of solitude, of retreating into myself the way I’ve done for months. But the thought of being alone right now, with the red letters still painted on my window boards and the knowledge that someone was here while I was gone…

‘No,’ I admit. ‘I’d rather not be alone.’

‘Then I’ll stay.’

The machine beeps, spitting out the last dribble of boiling water over the grounds. I watch the dark liquid bloom behind the pot’s glass. When I turn back, Harvey has settled into one of the kitchen chairs, his posture relaxed in a new way. Less like a police officer and more like a man at the end of a hard shift.

‘Can I ask you something?’ I say. ‘Off the record?’

‘I’m off duty, remember? Everything’s off the record.’ He almost smiles. ‘Ask away.’

‘Why did you become a police officer? What made you choose this?’

He’s quiet for a moment, turning his hands over on the table like he’s examining them for answers. ‘My mother,’ he says finally. ‘She was killed when I was sixteen. Home invasion. They never caught the person who did it.’

‘God. I’m so sorry.’

‘It was a long time ago. But it shaped everything that came after. I spent years being angry. At the police who couldn’t solve it. At the universe for letting it happen. At myself for not being there to protect her.’ He shrugs. ‘Eventually I realised the only way to channel that anger was to do something useful with it. So I joined up. Thought maybe I could give other families the help I never got.’

‘Does it help?’

‘Sometimes. When I solve a case. When I can look a victim’s family in the eye and tell them we found the person responsible.’ He pauses. ‘Other times… other times I wonder if I’m just filling a hole that can never actually be filled.’

I take the coffee pot and pour two cups. Set one in front of him and add the liquor, then take the seat opposite.

‘What about you? Before your husband, I mean. What was your life like?’ He holds up a hand before I can respond. ‘Strictly off the record. I’m not wearing my detective hat right now. Just making conversation.’

The clarification helps. Makes this feel less like an interrogation and more like what it appears to be – two people talking in a quiet kitchen after a difficult day.

‘Ordinary,’ I say after a moment. ‘Boring, probably. I worked from home. Did freelance copywriting. Made enough to get by but never enough to feel secure. Then I met Daniel. Not knowing he was filthy rich, of course.’ I wrap my hands around the cup, letting the warmth seep into my palms.

‘So you’re what they call “new money”?’

I smile thinly. ‘You could say that.’

‘It must have taken some adjustment.’

‘God, I almost broke Google with all the research. I had to learn about party etiquette, the way people treat each other, and even how to have a maid without forming a friendship with her. It’s a certain way of life I wasn’t used to.’ A sigh escapes me. ‘Daniel used to say I was a fish out of water but I grew feet. But to be honest, I never really got used to the grandeur. I tried to live a normal life – make my own food and clean my own house. Against my husband’s wishes, of course.’

‘Seems confusing. How did you meet?’

‘At a party when I was twenty-eight. He was charming. Confident. The kind of man who made you feel like the most interesting person in the room.’

‘Love at first sight?’

‘Something like that. Or at least what I thought was love. Looking back, I don’t think I knew what love was supposed to feel like. I just knew he made me feel less alone.’

Harvey nods like he understands. Like maybe he’s been there too.

‘And the marriage?’

‘Good at first. Then… complicated.’ I take a sip of coffee. It’s weaker than regular, but still warming. Still grounding. ‘We drifted. The way couples do when they stop paying attention. By the end, we were more like housemates than partners. Sharing a space but not really sharing anything else.’