“Stable at the last count,” she said, refocusing on Kash’s question. “Her doc said her gases have improved, whatever that means, and they’ve started to wean her off that mask. Her dad’s got his hands full with a new pair of foster children, but he’s going to come as soon as he can.”

Kash plucked up the courage to sit in the cubicle’s spare chair. “What about you?” he said, giving her a pointed look.

“I think I’m okay.” She knew better than to tell him she was fine—he would skewer that lie in a heartbeat—but she couldn’t describe the terror of hearing the flames creep closer, of feeling the heat on her skin and the quaking of the building, and she had no words for the helplessness she’d felt as she’d watched Jem slowly suffocate. Aiming for nonchalance, she swallowed a mouthful of tepid coffee, but the cup clipped the edge of the overbed table as she put it down. Kash handed her a wad of paper towels and said nothing.

“Have you heard anything about the girls?” she asked. “The sarge popped his head in a while back, but he didn’t have much of an update.”

“Only that they’re on the children’s ward with their families, and they won’t be interviewed until tomorrow morning at the earliest. Smoke inhalation, dehydration, and a badly sprained ankle. The elder one—Ava?—reckoned they’d been down there for about four days, but she refused to give any other specifics, and no one’s going to push them until Psych have completed an assessment.”

Rosie rubbed her sore eyes. She was so tired that the room kept spinning, but she was scared of what she might see if she went to sleep. “Were they runaways?”

“Yes.” He paused to check a note he’d written. “Twenty-three days listed as missing and vulnerable. They’d fallen off the radar completely, not a sight nor sound of them reported to the Misper team. Detective Merritt has been informed because of the circumstantial similarities, but there’s nothing concrete to link them to the Kyle Parker case.”

Rosie nodded, mulling the information over. In the house there had been no time to connect the dots, but she could see a pattern taking shape now, and it kicked her lethargy into touch. “Someone’s tempting these kids off the street, aren’t they?” she said. “Promising them the world, until they step out of line and end up locked in a cellar.”

“It’s one possible theory,” he said, always the more circumspect member of their duo. “Has Detective Merritt been in touch?”

“Numerous times.” Rosie’s mobile vibrated whenever she moved it, reminding her she had yet another message from Steph. She’d spoken to her briefly and emphasised the lack of mobile reception in Resus.