And then she stopped. The white sheet hanging directly in front of her was stained bright red with what looked like an arterial spray pattern.

She swallowed hard and wrenched it aside.

Poppy was lying on the floor, her large green eyes wide open, staring sightlessly upwards. Her throat had been cut. The wound gaped like a second mouth, a pool of thick crimson blood ebbing slowly outwards across the tiles.

‘Oh my god!’ gasped Bailey, reeling backwards.

She felt dizzy. She thought she was going to faint. She took several deep breaths and tried to look away but she couldn’t tear her gaze from the dead staring eyes. They seemed to be accusing her. Poppy had trusted her. And now Poppy was dead.

A surge of emotion forced an involuntary sob from her lips. Only now did she realise just how close she’d grown to Poppy over the course of the past few weeks. Those feelings wrenched at her like painful barbs. First Alice and now Poppy. Why did her friends have to die?

She inhaled sharply to try and compose herself. Her scattered thoughts began to regroup. She dropped into a combat poise. She was in mortal danger right now. This had happened without her hearing a single thing, and whoever had done it was very close by indeed.

What about Amber? Was Amber okay?

‘Amber?’ she stammered, stepping backwards.

‘Yes?’

Bailey spun around.

Amber was standing just a few metres away, leaning casually against an industrial steam press. Her bunch of keys dangled from her hand, swinging gently back and forth on their chain like the pendulum of a stage hypnotist.

Bailey stared at them clinking softly, temporarily mesmerised.

And then she noticed Poppy’s bloody shank lying on the floor by Amber’s shiny black shoe. It was the shank that Amber had confiscated only a short time earlier.

She looked up at Amber. Amber smiled faintly.

Bailey felt as if her insides had been sucked out of her.

‘Why?’ she gasped. ‘Why did you kill her?’

‘She was dead weight,’ said Amber with a dismissive shrug.

‘You bitch.’

‘That’s not a very nice thing to say,’ said Amber with a mocking smile on her face. ‘I could put you on the nicking sheet for saying that.’

Bailey was panting hard now, fighting to control the anger that was overtaking her. ‘I can’t believe it’s been you all along, working with them. With Terry and the Governor and the gang. Secretly helping them.’

Amber frowned, puzzled. ‘Me? A drug dealer?’ She spoke the words with disdain. ‘You’ve got to be joking. You are so off-track, it’s almost funny.’

Now Bailey was confused. Really confused. Questions tumbled chaotically through her mind, looking for answers that weren’t there.

‘But… then… then why…?’

She stared at Amber, confounded. And that’s when it hit her.

The realisation surfaced in its entirety. She gasped, almost unable to draw breath. She gazed transfixed at Amber’s face as the elements clicked into place and the recognition was complete.