Fifty-nine. Jude

Happy days are here again! I'm no longer charged with murdering . . . that Cross woman. The case against me has fallen apart like a snot-filled tissue. Crossmas has come early this year. And Luke, a fellow Liberation Militia inmate, has told me that I'm being welcomed back into the open arms of the L.M.

I feel like I've been invited back home. And it's great.

They're not letting me out of prison though. They couldn't dig up enough evidence to get me on the charge of kidnapping Sephy, either, but they didn't give up. They've now got me for belonging to the L.M. which carries an automatic sentence of two years in jail. I have no doubt that I'll be found guilty of that one. They're desperate to get me for something. But with good behaviour, I'll be out in six to eight months. Even the prospect of spending the next few months in prison can't stop me smiling. I bought the Daily Shouter this morning and the headline has had me grinning so hard all day that my lips are beginning to ache.

Andrew Dorn is dead.

Things couldn't've worked out better. One down, only Sephy and her daughter to go. And the only dead fly in my potato and leek soup is the fact that Sephy is living with my mum. I still can't believe that. I didn't know till I saw Sephy and my mum on the TV. Still, all this publicity should guarantee that she has to move on. She'll have no friends after this – on either side. Her fellow Crosses will blame her for giving an alibi to a nought accused of the murder of a Cross. They'll say she's betrayed one of her own. And noughts will hate her for not coming forward as my alibi sooner, when she had the chance. In fact, if she hadn't given a newspaper and a radio interview before I told the press my story, I doubt if she'd've said another word about it. I think she'd've denied it all if she could've – but she was too late. Thank God. I watched on the TV in prison as the newspapers and TV cameras camped on my mum's doorstep, desperate for an interview after my revelations, but Sephy never said a word. She didn't corroborate or deny my story. But then she didn't have to. Her previous interviews had done the job for her. And although she never actually mentioned Andrew Dorn in any of the interviews she gave before my heartbreaking tale of injustice was broadcast, it didn't matter. The press kept asking her about Andrew Dorn. As far as they and everyone else was concerned, Sephy knew him, had left him at Cara's house and had then kept quiet after Cara's death to cover it up. She was guilty by association. Not that any of the reporters got very far with Sephy. Every question thrown at her was met with a stony silence. A telling, damning silence.

A silence which brought a grin to my lips and joy to my heart. I've got you, Sephy. And this is just the start. I've got you.

I hope you're proud of me, Callum.

I did it all for you.

Andrew Dorn has paid for betraying us. And no matter where Sephy goes now she'll be alone and despised by everyone she meets. And best of all, I'll still have my vengeance against her when I come out. I couldn't've asked for a better outcome.

And although it's not enough, it sure is close.