‘Mr Snow didn’t do it,’ I say, straight away, the feeling of relief that comes with the words making me feel lighter than air. This wasn’t my fault.

‘Oh, Anna. Is that where you’ve been all afternoon?’ Fran says gently. ‘The police called not long before you arrived home. They told us he has a rock-solid alibi. Some family party or something. He’s off the hook.’ She fumbles in her pocket for a lighter, shielding her cigarette from the rain as she lights it.

‘Oh.’ I thought I had been so clever this afternoon, using my initiative, but it turns out I needn’t have bothered after all. Although what else would I have done? There’s nothing for me to do at home now that Laurel isn’t here. ‘Does Dominic know?’

‘Who knows?’ Fran’s face hardens as she blows out a stream of grey-blue smoke. ‘I haven’t seen him all day. Perhaps you know where he is? After all, you seem to have had quite the investigative day.’ All at once the tension returns, the air thickening and I struggle to find the right words to say, knowing by Fran’s tone that whatever I say will be wrong, as it so often is.

‘No. No I don’t know where he is.’

She must catch something in my voice because an unreadable expression crosses her face and she reaches out to gently touch my arm. ‘Sorry, Anna. This is hard for you too, isn’t it? I know I’m a prickly old bitch.’

‘No, no of course you’re not,’ I say automatically. Fran raises an eyebrow and gives a small laugh, one that is crammed full of sadness.

‘You’re a good girl, Anna. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all of this. I forget that you love Laurel too, that you miss her probably just as much as I . . . as we do. I really am so dreadfully sorry.’ She stubs out her cigarette and turns on her heel, leaving me alone outside in the rain. So, Dominic is gone again. I recall his words from earlier today. Perhaps if you hadn’t been such a bitch . . . I push away the thought of the long, blonde hair that I plucked from his jacket from my mind. Where are you, Laurel? Please, come home.

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 14

Dominic is in the kitchen when I come down from my room the next morning, and he’s clearly not happy by the way he is slamming things around. Kelly sits quietly in the corner, a cup of coffee to her lips as she just sits observing. Dominic throws his empty mug into the sink and marches out, slamming the door behind him.