When Amelia looked straight through her, Leanne sensed the child being drawn towards an elusive memory. Instinctively, she checked the drawing again. ‘Is that a chain around Claudia’s throat too?’

‘Yes.’

‘Claudia was wearing a necklace when she found you?’ When Amelia nodded, Leanne asked, ‘And can you remember what it looked like?’

Amelia shrugged. ‘It was a bit like that,’ she said, pointing back to Leanne’s pendant.

‘This shape?’

Amelia stared intently at the eternity symbol. ‘I don’t think so, but it was silver.’

Leanne picked up a handful of Amelia’s other drawings. In every sketch, the woman with dark hair had the same semicircle around her neck, and in every one, the detail was lacking. The pendant was nothing more than a dot in the centre of a thin, grey line.

‘What are you looking for?’ asked Kathryn.

Leanne straightened up. ‘To be honest, I don’t know, but I think I just got closer.’

The Empress Theatre

Sedgefield, Cheshire

Angela Morris was sitting with her four friends two rows from the front. They worked together at Bridgewater Primary School and when one of their students appeared onstage as the white rabbit, a squeal carried through the group. A few minutes later, Angela casually fixed her hair, not entirely necessary with her shortly cropped afro, but since her hand was up in the air anyway, she gave Evie a furtive wave.

They were just getting settled when the alarm sounded, and the group of friends shuffled out of their row. Angela had reached the aisle when Evie’s mum, Sarah, appeared in front of her. She was on her way backstage to collect her daughter, but stopped to say hello to the teacher who had been in the job long enough to have taught her too.

‘You must be so proud of Evie, I know I am,’ Angela said. One of her friends tugged at her arm, but she waved them on. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’

‘Wasn’t she amazing?’ gushed Sarah. ‘I hope they don’t send everyone home. Evie couldn’t sleep last night with nerves, and this will only make it worse. At least there’ll be another show tomorrow.’

‘Not for me,’ Angela said, her dark brown eyes dimming with disappointment. ‘I’m keeping my fingers firmly crossed that tonight isn’t over yet. Now you get on and find your superstar.’

While Angela was praying that the show would restart, Lena Kowalski was hoping it would be cancelled so they could get a refund. Lena and her boyfriend, Peter, were at the back of the stalls, not far from where Rex would find temporary refuge only a few minutes later. She was fuming. Peter had bought tickets for what must be the worst seats in the house. They were underneath the circle and as far away from the stage as you could possibly get.