'Jonah,' I say, bracing myself for a conversation that I don't want but know we have to have. I have fought over territory and set traps and negotiated my way out of hostage situations; I can handle this. 'I need to tell you something and you're not going to like it.'
He looks up at me, frowning at my words. To him, it probably feels like everything has already been tied up neatly for the year. 'You can tell me anything,' he replies, but his voice is cautious.
'They've caught the serial killer.'
His face clears and a relieved smile spreads across his face. 'Taylor, that's great news. The girls will be thrilled when they find out.'
'They already know, but that's… that's not the point.' I take a deep breath. 'He was a postman. From Yass.'
For a moment, he doesn't react. Then, suddenly, he pales. 'The postman…'
I nod. 'It was him, Jonah; I tracked down a picture to make sure. It could have been us. It would have been us.'
He starts to cry, and then I do, too, and soon we're clutching at one another, feeling grateful and guilty all at once.
'Thank you for making that phone call,' I whisper.