And since then Libby had been making her presence felt. One of her first acts was to put up posters all over school apologizing for some of the views she’d expressed in the past, assuring everyone that she would be a head girl working for the benefit of all students. I must admit I thought that was kind of brave of her. She set up a student council, with a proper paid counsellor who worked at the school twice a week, where those being bullied or those who had physical and mental issues could come and talk to someone. Libby didn’t think twice about reporting all bullies to Mrs Paxton if they refused to check their attitude after she’d warned them. Nor were the teachers safe. She didn’t hesitate to call any of them out for dodgy rhetoric or favouritism. And, ironically, the more she pissed off some of the teachers and students with her relentless scrutiny, the more popular she became. She was a social justice warrior, out and about and full up in people’s faces and proud of it.

Me? I was the opposite. I moved round school like a ghost.

‘Troy, I’m worried about you.’

‘I’m OK, or I will be,’ I said quietly. ‘Hopefully.’

‘That’s what you’ve got to hang on to,’ said Libby.

‘Do you know what you wanna do when you leave school?’ I asked. ‘Are you still gonna be a doctor?’

‘That’s the plan. I was thinking I might be a psychiatrist.’

I nodded. ‘I can see you doing that. You’d be a good one.’

‘I think so. What about you? Are you still weighing up options?’

I shrugged.

‘Troy, you can’t spend the rest of your life on autopilot. You’re allowed to laugh. And live. And love.’

‘It’s just … all my dreams and ambitions, they feel so small.’

‘But they’re yours and that makes them unique in the universe and that’s what gives them their worth. Life is for living. I learned that the hard way. And, from everything you’ve told me about your mum, I know she’d say the same thing too.’

Startled, I looked at Libby. I’d never thought of it quite that way before. Being kidnapped had made me feel small and insignificant, but maybe Libby had a point.

We carried on kicking up snow.

sixty-nine. Callie