“Well, that’s her problem.” Henry swiped his stick through the grass. “I heard we’re going to get a new one tomorrow. I hope they’re not going to be put in our room. They’d need to add a new bed, and there’s no space as it is.”

Leanne didn’t mind having more bodies sharing their bedroom. At night, when she lay awake, the gentle breathing and rustling of sheets was a comfort. More than anything, she was afraid of being alone, especially when the thudding cane passed along the hallway.

The bell chimed, deep, angry booms that seemed to jangle her bones and ring through her skull. Leanne looked towards the tree line. Jayne was out of sight.

“She’s going to be in trouble,” she repeated and turned to run after Henry as he beckoned her towards the door.

Children emerged from all areas of the yard, some brushing grass out of their clothes, others tossing aside sticks and woven toys that were not allowed inside. Patience stood at the door, her back ramrod straight, ringing the bell with steady, long pulls of the rope. Leanne fell to a walk as she filed up the steps. Running was not permitted in Bellamy.

As she passed Patience, she looked over her shoulder. Jayne still had not emerged from the forest. Leanne frowned. She couldn’t have gone that far.

The last child passed through the door. Patience stood in the opening a moment longer, her milky eyes scanning the gathered children. One long arm extended, indicating towards the stairs in a silent instruction to wash and prepare for bed.

As Leanne climbed towards their rooms, she heard the doors to the yard close and lock with a heavy click. She looked back. She didn’t see Jayne. Patience stared at the closed doors, her hands clasped on top of her cane, the knobby knuckles pale in the dim light.

Leanne stepped back from the glass, letting her hand fall to her side. She didn’t remember what had happened to Jayne, whether the girl had knocked to be let in, or whether she had been subjected to a punishment. She shook her head. It seemed like something she should remember.

She remembered the new girl who had arrived the following day, though. A tiny mousy thing with drooping cheeks. As Henry had worried, she’d been put into their bedroom. But they hadn’t needed to add an extra bed. There had been one empty and waiting.

“Jayne’s bed?” Her lips formed the words, but no sound left. Leanne’s throat was dry.

She turned to face the desks. She could picture her schoolmates. Leanne raised a hand and pointed at each desk as she called out their names. “Helen. Poppy. James. Susan. No—that’s not right. Paul sat at that desk.”