Leanne felt her heart sinking and all hope with it. She wanted Amelia to know how important this was. If Leanne failed to expose Claudia as a fraud, she would never find closure. She wouldn’t go home for Christmas, nor would she celebrate the start of a new year where the world continued to celebrate the villains simply because the heroes didn’t fit the right mould. It had all rested on Amelia, and she was still smiling. Not a muscle in her face had moved. Her expression was frozen.

‘What is it?’ Leanne asked.

Amelia blinked. Twice. She took a breath. It was a short gasp, followed by another. As she raised her hand, she extended one finger towards the open page. ‘I remember,’ she whispered, but not in the playful way she had adopted earlier when asking if Joe was Leanne’s boyfriend. She had lost her voice, or else she had rediscovered the one left behind amongst smouldering rafters and broken masonry.

Leanne put an arm around the girl. ‘Tell me what you see.’

‘She was wearing a necklace like that.’

Amelia was pointing at the same image Leanne had picked out.

‘Exactly like that?’ Leanne asked. They weren’t there yet, but they were getting closer.

There was a pause, another prayer.

‘No, it wasn’t a V. It was a …’

Leanne couldn’t tell if Amelia was struggling because she couldn’t remember, or because she could and it didn’t make sense. Everyone kept telling her she had misspelled Claudia’s name.

‘It’s OK, Amelia. Say what you remember. Don’t try to make it fit with what’s happened since. What letter was around her neck?’

‘It was a K,’ Amelia said. She looked at Leanne, her face twisted with confusion that only intensified when she realised the reporter was grinning at her. ‘Is that right?’

‘It’s the rightest thing I’ve heard in a very long time.’

Amelia returned her gaze to the image, and for a moment it was as if she were entranced. ‘This might hurt a wee bit.’

‘Sorry?’

‘That was what she said to me. She was pulling things off and I was looking at her necklace.’

Leanne’s broad smile was making her cheeks ache, but she didn’t care. Amelia hadn’t only repeated something Karin had said, she had added the faintest lilt of a Northern Irish accent.

‘I should tell Mum,’ Amelia said.

‘I’ll need to speak to her as well.’

They both looked over to where her family was sitting. Kathryn waved at her daughter. Their food had arrived and she was being called back.

‘Do you want to come over now?’

‘I’m afraid I have work to do, but tell your mum I’ll be in touch in the next few days. You’ve helped me so much, Amelia. I’m seeing things so much clearer, and soon you will too,’ Leanne promised.

32