He scoops the teabag out of Lucy’s mug and stamps too firmly on the pedal for the bin. It tips open, spilling rubbish across the kitchen. He tosses back in a banana skin, an eggshell. Scoops up a screwed-up piece of paper. That should be in the recycling. As he carries it towards the back door, he can’t help opening it.

AN EYE FOR AN EYE.

It stops him in his tracks.

AN EYE FOR AN EYE.

Revenge.

That one word is cold and hard and terrifying.

AN EYE FOR AN EYE.

Oh God. He wants to grab his family and run. Do they know? How will he explain? He stares at the letter wondering who found it.

Lucy?

Connor?

Kieron?

More importantly, did they guess it was for him?

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Lucy

The day that Connor is taken

I wake at first light, disorientated and distressed. In my dreams I’d heard a baby crying and I’d stumbled through the dark trying to reach it but I couldn’t.

‘I’m leaving for the conference now.’ Aidan bends down and gives me a minty kiss. ‘I want to arrive early and get my bearings. I’ll have breakfast there.’

I squint at the clock. It’s 7 a.m., Kieron’s hospital appointment isn’t until one but I drag my leaden limbs out of bed. I have six hours and there’s lots to do before we go. The flush of positivity I’d experienced last night has faded under the weight of my nightmare.

Missing baby.

Missing children.

As soon as I’m up, I ring Melissa to check if she’s okay but she doesn’t pick up. I call her landline but that too rings and rings without answer. I’m worried there’s been a development I don’t know about until she texts that she doesn’t want to tie up the phone line just in case there’s news.

Connor is already downstairs, in his pyjamas, shaking cereal into a bowl. He looks as exhausted as I am.

‘Morning,’ I yawn as I fill the kettle. ‘Are you okay?’

‘My mates are missing, Mum. Of course I’m not okay.’

He’s been like this all weekend. His moods veering from light to dark to light again. He’s scared for his friends, himself, I understand, but I’ve been biting my tongue and I’m so close to snapping. My eyes are stinging with tiredness and I can’t unravel my tangled thoughts. The past few days have been such a lot to cope with. Too much.

‘I just meant… I’m glad you’re staying home from school today.’

‘Yeah, but you can’t keep me prisoner forever.’

‘I’m not…’ I lower my voice. ‘I’m not keeping you prisoner but—’

‘It’s all right for you. I’ve been stuck in the house all bloody weekend. At least you’ve been able to go out.’