‘But nothing. Go get ready, we’ll drop you off before we head out.’

I shoot from my chair and storm out of the room, slamming my bedroom door as hard as I can. Fuming, I abuse my school port, books and uniform while I get ready. I listen to uncles, aunties, cousins roll up and start to divide up the various back roads and places Laney might’ve gone. Rhi is there with Aunty Mel. She’d stuck her head in the door, taken one look at my face and left me alone, muttering something that sounded like ‘she’s the one that shoulda been named after her mother’.

Everything ready, I march out of the house and into Uncle’s car without uttering a single word to anyone. It takes another fifteen minutes for them to come outside and the whole time I am cursing them all in my head. No one speaks as they get in the car, and no one says anything when they drop me off at school. In my family we do the silent treatment like an Olympic sport.

Computer class is boring as ever but at least the air-con means you don’t stick to things. If you pick the right computer Mr Duffy won’t move his large bum around enough to see what you’re doing. We all pick games that make it look like we’re doing the useless typing exercises he usually sets us. Someone needs to tell that man it isn’t 1975.

For once I’m following the exercises, too tired and stressed to do anything but tap away mindlessly while I mull things over. It’s obvious Mum is going to do everything she can to shut me out of the search for Laney. If I want to get involved I’ll have to take things into my own hands. But what?

The year eleven boys are doing their usual stuffing around, and I get hit by a flying spit ball. I turn to glare at them. Ordinarily they’d have laughed into their hands and gotten cheeky with me, but now none of them will meet my eyes. Not even this is normal since Laney’s been missing. My gaze lands on Sam Miller and something clicks. I settle back to the tasks, trying not to be too obvious about staring at Sam. He, more than anyone, spends the most time with his Aunty May and he is the only Miller I can swap two words with that don’t involve four letters. Maybe if I want answers, I should go to the source? I open AOL instant messaging, find his sign-in name using his school email and start typing. It takes me forever to come up with something. In the end I have to treat it like a jump from the big bridge into the river. Fast, no thought, just do it. Send.