“I’m nearly eleven.” I straighten up and look her in the eyes. “I’m old enough not to need after-school care now.” Ha. Like I’ve ever been to that. “If I do all my homework before Mum gets home I’m allowed to pick what I watch before bed.” You always said it was the irrelevant details that convince people.

“And I keep an eye on things too.” Lettie. She’s leaning on the side fence. Nosy old goat. She gives Lucy a smile.

“Hm. Okay.” Lucy gives her a tight smile and looks back to me. “Tell her I’d like to catch up for a chat. Okay, Rae?”

“Sure. I think we’re free this weekend?” I can be out all weekend.

She goes. I don’t like the look she gives me as she shuts the gate. We watch her walk back to her house.

“You’re not going to dodge that one, no matter how friendly you get with her kid.”

I shoot Lettie a look. Those cleaning people are still hanging around. They have a creepy habit of appearing out of nowhere.

Right on cue: “Okay, Lettie, that’s all fine to walk on now.” This one has the face mask off now. They all do. There are four of them peering out the front door, grinning. “All the furniture’s in. And we’ve hooked up the washing machine in the laundry.” They grin at her some more.

I can feel Lettie’s bird eye radiating through the back of her head. They continue to grin, though it seems a little strained now.

“Come and see!” They look at me. “Your little friend should come see too.” They turn their cheerful smiles my way. I lean away from the fence.

“She’s not my little friend.”

My cheeks heat up and I turn to go. Typical Lettie.

“She’s my friend. Don’t be so patronizing.”

“Sorry, Lettie.” Four grown-ups apologizing to her like kids who’ve been told off.

I smirk. She turns to me and winks. “Come and have a look, then.”

I DON’T RECOGNIZE the place.

The walls are white, the floor polished and gleaming. There’s neat uncluttered furniture, the comfortable basics only. A small couch and an armchair, the bookshelves and a side table. A bed and a dresser in the bedroom. A table and chairs in the kitchen. Empty shelves.

Everything’s gone. After all the fighting and refusal to allow anything to be taken, everything is gone.

“Lettie.”

She looks at my face. Her chin quivers slightly before her face sets into old goat. “Don’t look so horrified. It’s not all gone. I’ve still got the books.” She gestures to the front room.

“Just the books?”

“And some other bits and pieces. The things that weren’t broken or . . .”