“There’s some interesting family history in those boxes,” said Chris, nodding past the cages to the closed door. “Ever wonder how someone like Dad got a wife like her? She isn’t our mother, you know. We came along first, Mitch and I. And one day: there was Nerida Scott. So pretty, so quiet. A perfect lady.” Chris sneered again. “She stole his heart.” He cocked his head, birdlike and unblinking. “But he offered it up. I thought you might have fought harder. I suppose, technically, you were already her creature. She certainly made quick work of you.”

He coolly flipped away the hair on one side of my neck, then the other, as if expecting to find a mark. Frowning, he pointed down to the cardigan, its hem wound around my hand.

“Mitch bit me,” I said. The throbbing had eased, and I unwrapped the cloth. “It will be fine, but I suppose I ought—” The bloody marks were closing, although the bruises from Gary’s fingers remained. He should have been back. “It’s Mitch I’m worried about. Let’s—”

“Shh,” said Chris.

“I’ve been quiet long enough!” I snapped, startling myself. “I’ve agreed with everyone else long enough, and now—”

Chris laughed. “Was it that simple? She’d already turned you into a real little yes-man, before we left. You’d agree to anything she said. Poor Mum. Oh, Tink. So much for having a mind of your own. She didn’t have to eat your heart—you gave it to her. She gets a slave and all the power you had from Dad, and you sleepwalk into our arms.”

“Power?” I said. I didn’t want to think about eating hearts—or the sweet, familiar smell of rot. “She gardens and cooks and writes letters. Mitch is sick, Chris—”

“A perfect life,” said Chris, over me. “But we’ve got you now.”

Chris must be sick too. Trish and Gary could help me persuade him—where were they?

“Mum knows I’m here,” I lied.

“Of course she does,” said Chris, soothingly. “I heard it over the two-way, driving back. Someone asking if anyone had seen a Damson Fencing truck, last headed this way—with you in it. Sounded like Nerida’s policeman. Imagine my surprise! Nerida’s bold, if she lets the Damsons hang around you. They were always suspicious about Dad’s … interests.” From beyond the thick walls of this room, through the crowded cavern of the shed, over the steady thrumming of the generator, came a sound like a slammed truck door.

“Chris,” whined Mitch.