Police here asking questions. Do you think it’s about the residential?

He slips his phone back into his bag. He couldn’t concentrate, wondering when he’d be called, expecting to be the first.

He is.

Connor has only ever been inside the head teacher’s office when he’s been in trouble. He thought he’d known fear before as he’d sat in the low chair opposite the big desk, Mr Marshall peering down at him over his glasses, Connor’s palms damp as he waited for his punishment: detention; a letter home to his parents. But this… this is fear.

An officer sits behind Mr Marshall’s desk. Mr Marshall stands by the window, the sunlight reflecting off the glass in the picture frames which hold the ‘Ofsted Outstanding’ certificates the school has been awarded with. Connor hears the thud-thud-thud of his own heart. Like the hem on his trousers, he’s unravelling. The truth rising from his stomach through his throat, choking him. He coughs his confession back down and waits.

‘Connor Walsh,’ the officer says. ‘I’m PC Johnston. You’re close friends with Tyler Palin?’

‘Umm.’ He glances over to Mr Marshall. ‘Yeah.’

‘And when was the last time you saw Tyler?’

‘Umm.’ He can’t seem to stop faltering as he speaks. ‘Yesterday. He came to the hospital with me to visit my brother, along with Ryan… Ryan Horner. They left at about five.’

‘Alone?’

‘No. My dad dropped them off. Is Tyler in trouble?’ Connor can’t stop his knee from juddering as he speaks. He places his hand on his leg and pushes his foot down into the muddy brown carpet.

‘Have you had any contact since? Phone? Text?’

‘No. We messaged him this morning, me and Ryan, Tyler was late meeting us so we came in without him. What’s happened?’

‘Tyler didn’t arrive home last night. His mum has reported him missing.’

The word hangs heavy in the air. ‘Missing?’ Connor repeats as though he doesn’t know what it means. There has to be a mistake. His confused eyes flicker around the room as though they might find Tyler before they land back on the officer who is watching him intently. Connor tugs his collar away from his neck, suddenly hot. Heat sweeps over his cheeks as he struggles to make sense of the situation.

‘You think something has happened to him?’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘But… you must. You’re here and he’s been missing less than twenty-four hours. You wouldn’t be looking if—’

‘You watch too much TV. There is no set time period before we investigate a report. Each missing person case is judged individually. Tyler is under eighteen and doesn’t have a history for staying out at night and not turning up for school. We’re just trying to establish the facts. Is there anywhere he might be? Any reason he might have run away?’

I know.

‘No.’