“Do you think you could explain that conversation to someone else?”

“You?”

“No, not me. This guy I know from work, called Stephen. He’s only a couple of years older than Darren, and he’s very nice.” Stephen had mentioned sisters; I just hoped he had been good with them. “He really needs to hear what you and your uncle were talking about.”

Holly’s lashes flickered. “I don’t remember.”

“Sweetie, I know you said you wouldn’t tell anyone. I heard you.”

A quick, wary flash of blue. “Heard what?”

“I’m going to bet it was just about everything.”

“Then if you heard, you tell that Stephen guy.”

“Won’t work, love. He needs to hear it direct from you.”

Her fists were starting to clench on the sides of her jumper. “So, tough. I can’t tell him.”

I said, “Holly. I need you to look at me.” After a moment her head turned, reluctantly, an inch or two in my direction. “Remember we talked about how, sometimes, you need to tell a secret because someone else has a right to know it?”

Shrug. “So?”

“So this is that kind of secret. Stephen’s trying to find out what happened to Rosie.” I left Kevin out of it: we were already several light-years beyond what the kid should have been coping with. “That’s his job. And to do it, he needs to hear your story.”

More elaborate shrug. “I don’t care.”

Just for a second, the stubborn tilt to her chin reminded me of Ma. I was fighting against every instinct she had, everything I had put into her bloodstream straight from my own veins. I said, “You need to care, sweetheart. Keeping secrets is important, but there are times when getting to the truth is even more important. When someone’s been killed, that’s almost always one of those times.”

“Good. Then Stephen Thingy can go bug somebody else and leave me alone, ’cause I don’t think Uncle Shay even did anything bad.”

I looked at her, tense and prickly and shooting off sparks like a wild kitten trapped in a corner. Just a few months earlier she could have done what I asked her to, unquestioning, and still kept her faith in lovely Uncle Shay intact. It seemed like every time I saw her the tightrope got thinner and the drop got longer, till it was inevitable that sooner or later I would get the balance wrong and miss my foothold just once, and take both of us down.

I said, keeping my voice even, “OK, kiddo. Then let me ask you something. You planned today pretty carefully, amn’t I right?”

That wary blue flash again. “No.”