The engine stills. A door slams. Connor pulls his hand free and scrambles back as far as he can. Footsteps.

The release of a catch.

Tears build again and this time Connor allows them to stream down his cheeks unchecked.

Rain splatters into Connor’s blinking eyes.

The face staring down at him.

Still familiar.

Still angry.

Chapter Forty-Five

Lucy

My hair is sodden, rain dripping down my neck. I bounce from tears to anger as I wait for Aidan to answer the phone, all the while watching the reassuring movement of Kieron’s chest. Aidan still doesn’t pick up.

Instead of dialling 999, I call the local police station who are dealing with Ryan and Tyler’s disappearance.

‘This is Lucy Walsh, Connor’s mum,’ streams from me in a voice that sounds nothing like mine. I hear a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. The operator knows what’s coming next. ‘He’s missing. He was at home. There… there’s blood.’ Light-headed, I lean against my car. Inside, Kieron stirs. How can I tell him his brother has gone? Not in the same way as Tyler and Ryan, disappearing from the streets, but nevertheless gone all the same. It is impossible Connor has been taken and yet somehow he has. It’s unfathomable. I garble, ‘I wasn’t here but I thought he was safe. I had locked the door behind me. I had. He hadn’t gone out, he was at home and he knows not to answer the door to strangers but…’

In my mind I hear us, shouting.

‘How would you feel if I was missing?’ Connor screaming in my face.

And now? Now I know what I feel. I feel all of it.

Everything.

The operator’s voice drifts back into my consciousness, calm, reassuring.

‘We’re on our way, Mrs Walsh, stay exactly where you are.’

But I can’t just hang around waiting, trying to make sense of the senseless.

Kieron stirs again. Everything is unravelling and I’m running out of time.

Where is Connor?

My body is out of control; heart pounding, blood speeding through my hot veins. Every cell twitching with fright.

Where is Connor?

I pinch the bridge of my nose, both trying to stem my tears and the fierce stabbing pain behind my eyes.

And then it comes to me.

In a starburst of clarity, impossible to ignore.

I know exactly what happened here today.

I get back in my car and start the engine. Squeal out of my driveway, hunched forward over the steering wheel as though my weight will tip the balance, propelling the car faster, glancing at Kieron to ensure he’s still sleeping.

I know.

This fear. This uncertainty. Mothers terrified to let their teenage boys out of their sight.

The windscreen wipers swish.

Connor-Connor-Connor.

I know where to go. What to do.

I know.

It all has to end.

Now.