‘I want to, Tobey,’ I replied. ‘I really do. Do you know who’s trying to get rid of you?’

‘I suspect Eva, but I don’t know for sure,’ said Tobey.

‘If you believe that Eva’s behind all this, why are we going into Ava’s to see her? Isn’t that reckless, to say the least?’

‘I want my daughter returned home safe and sound, and Eva needs to know I’ll do whatever it takes to get Libby back. If Eva is responsible for all this, she needs to understand that she’s messed with the wrong man. So when we get in there, whatever happens, follow my lead and trust me – OK?’

I reluctantly nodded. In spite of our chequered history and our sketchy present, I still considered Tobey my oldest friend and, as such, I owed him the benefit of the doubt, at the very least. Or was this just my way of trying to prove to both of us – but mostly myself – that I wasn’t the judgemental, unforgiving excuse for a woman he thought I was? After slamming the door shut, I looked up to see Tobey watching me.

‘Ready? Let’s go,’ he said.

As we walked towards the nightclub, my heart was in my mouth. This was such a bad idea, but what choice did we have? I told myself that each step brought me closer to finding Troy and bringing him home. So why did it feel like I was stepping into the path of an oncoming express train?

fifty-three. Tobey

Another beep sounded on my phone as we walked towards Ava’s. Now what? It was a text message with a video recording attached from a mobile number I didn’t recognize. How had the sender got my phone number? Opening the message, my eyes widened as I watched.

‘Is that news about Troy and Libby?’ Callie asked from beside me. ‘May I see?’

I beckoned her closer. Standing next to me, she watched the recording, her mouth falling open only to snap shut. The clip only lasted about five seconds, but that was long enough. Libby and Troy were in the back of some kind of vehicle with wire mesh over the windows. Troy was scratching his ear, but then the recording zoomed in on his face, followed by my daughter’s.

Callie took the phone from my unresisting hand and played the recording a second and then a third time, bringing it closer to her face to scrutinize it. She started shaking.

I leaned in closer, my arm instinctively moving round her shoulder. ‘What is it? Did Troy manage to sign something?’ I asked.

Callie replied, ‘I just got one letter – J.’

She stared at me, bewilderment writ large all over her face, before she exclaimed, ‘Jarvis! It has to be him.’