I’M UP EARLY and out the door. I shut it behind me with a firm click. Hair brushed and teeth cleaned, in my own winter coat and lace-up shoes. I’m even wearing a scarf. Splinter whines behind the door. I do up my coat buttons, pat my pocket and walk out the gate.

Their front yard’s not as tidy as ours, but it’s not-tidy in a way that suggests hard work. There’s straw from under the plants scattered on the path and a trowel sticking out of a pot with a gardening glove over it, the other glove propped up on a small stake in the pot next to it. They wave at me as I walk past. I ignore them and step up to the door. I knock with intent.

“Hello.” It’s Oscar’s mum. She doesn’t smile but she isn’t mean either. The warmth of their house spills out. I can smell toast, fried eggs and coffee.

“Hi, Ms.—” I can’t remember her name. I dig my nail into my finger. I should’ve practiced this part.

“Lucy.”

I thought it started with G for some reason. I clear my throat and start again. “Hi, Ms. Lucy.”

She does smile now. “It’s Lucy. Just Lucy.” I watch as she pushes that smile away again. “What can I do for you, Rae?”

I straighten my shoulders. I prepared for this. “Is Oscar home? There’s something I’d like to say to him.”

Oscar steps out from behind the door. Sneaky little rat must’ve been there the whole time.

I give him a smile, but I don’t let it go to the edge of my lips. It’s a sad smile. An I’m really sorry smile. I make eye contact; his eyes go narrow.

“I’m very sorry that I hit you, Oscar.” He says nothing. I wait. I thought he’d be better trained than this; I was expecting an immediate thank-you. But I’m not unprepared. I’ve practiced more than one outcome. I take a deep breath and double down on the eye contact. “What I did was wrong. Hitting is never okay, and I shouldn’t have done it.” I look down at my shoes to show his mum how bad I feel and to give Oscar time to accept my apology. He still says nothing. I peek up from under my eyelashes. His eyes are still narrowed at me and he’s rubbing his nose. I glance at his mum. She’s saying nothing. I’d hoped she’d be more the stepping-in type. I swallow my annoyance and reach into my pocket for the big guns.

“Why did you, then?”

I leave my hand where it is. “Huh?”