I’m propelled back to a small, clammy hospital room. It’s nighttime and Ruth’s asleep in the chair by Jakey’s bed. He’s so small under the blankets that I get up to check he’s still there. I stand by his bedside and am surprised to find he’s awake. He’s too weak to cry or say anything; he just looks at me with complete resignation, like he’s already agreed to die, and I know he wants it to be over. It was like he was begging me to make the pain stop and in that moment I would have done anything to help him, to end his suffering. Thank God Ruth stirred. She watched as I stroked Jakey’s cheek with one finger until his huge, empty eyes finally closed, like he couldn’t bear the sight of the world anymore. I blink the memory away, then I see Meg by Grace’s bedside, Grace looking at her mum with the same imploring eyes, her tiny body pumped full of chemicals, begging her mum to help her, to make it stop, and as her thin body rattles with pain I see Meg reach for a bottle of pills.

15

Cara

With just a few hours before I meet GoodSam I know I won’t sleep so I don’t even bother trying. I open my laptop and google “Missing Grace” to check for updates and click on a new video link. Suddenly, Cookie, with a mewl, leaps onto my bed and curls herself into a shell shape in the space between my crossed legs. I remember how she used to curl up and sleep on Grace’s legs. I scratch her ear, lean in close to hear her purr, and whisper, “You probably know more than anyone, don’t you, Cookie?”

The video is a series of short interviews with people from Summervale. It opens with Sylvia and Zara side by side outside the salon. Zara, in huge gold hoop earrings and gold eye shadow, talks, and Sylvia casts shy glances at Zara, nods along at everything she says.

“Grace was, well, Grace was an absolute ray of sunshine, she was the smiliest little girl I ever knew. Even when she must have been in huge pain she’d smile through it all. She used to come into the salon and she’d always have us all laughing, cheer us all up.”

But, if Jon is right, Grace wasn’t a little girl, she was a young woman. Neither of them knew Grace, not really. They only saw her how they wanted to see her, as bright and false as a Disney character. It was just so much nicer for everyone if the disabled girl was happy. I see Grace, staring at me through the rain by her brother’s grave, how she walked with such ease, as though she’d never even sat in a wheelchair. Zara and Sylvia have no idea, but the sweet Grace they talk about in the video doesn’t exist. But Zoe does, and she’s the riddle I have to solve.