‘Everyone knows who you are,’ Juno cut in, smiling. ‘The shit you did was on every news back in the day. People said you was probably coming here. I even googled Deion Powell. He’s started playing college ball, but his face is wrecked …’

Charlie twisted uncomfortably. On her first day at White Boulder, an inmate warned her not to go around claiming she was innocent, because the staff will write it on your file and the early release panel might say you’re in denial and not truly sorry for what you’ve done.

It felt like yet another way the system was rigged against the innocent. But, over time, Charlie got used to having friends and cellmates who thought she was guilty and she got bullied less than most, because even the baddest girls feared making the Mad Bomber snap.

But while Charlie could handle nicknames, or friends speculating that Deion must have raped or beaten her to push level-headed Charlie over the edge, she detested people thinking she’d done something so cruel.

Deion had lost over seventy per cent of the skin on his face and torso. The other victim’s burns were less serious, but she’d lost sight in one eye and endured painful operations to rebuild a shattered jaw and cheekbone.

‘Got no family?’ Juno asked.

‘Just a twelve-year-old brother,’ Charlie said, which wasn’t a lie because Fawn was dead to her. ‘He had a brain injury in childbirth. He’s in an institution.’

‘Gonna visit?’

‘My friend Harry found where he’s at,’ Charlie explained. ‘I left messages saying I wanted to see him, but nobody called back.’

Brad knocked on Juno’s half-open door and poked his head round without waiting for a response.

‘Everyone’s heading out,’ Brad said. ‘You sluts ready?’

Juno flipped Brad off and mouthed something foul. It was past seven, but it was December, so it was already dark with a bite in the air. Charlie stared at the full moon in the lot out back, realising it was the first time in two years that she’d been outside after dark.

The ride was a mangled GMC pickup, driven by an older guy. Brad and their driver’s younger brother filled the cab, leaving Charlie, Juno and a muscled little black guy nicknamed Dodge to ride on the open rear platform.

‘Hang tight back there,’ the driver yelled as he set off, then deliberately slammed the brakes.

Charlie’s elbow scraped the rusty pick-up bed as Juno pounded on the cab’s rear window. ‘You do that one more time and I’ll cut you!’ she yelled, as the guys seat-belted inside the cab laughed hysterically.

Charlie felt cold and none too safe, linking arms with Juno so that they didn’t get thrown about. The ride was too scary to be fun, but the dark sky and the blast of cold air was exhilarating.