The bus stop is a bad place. There are no adults to tell the naughty kids off, so they do what they want. And I try to be invisible.

Mum said the best people go to St. Gregory’s, but some of the worst do too. They pick on you if you’re too loud or too quiet or too big or too small. At school, they ignore you, but the bus stop has different rules.

I needed time off after Logan came, but Mum said it was getting suspicious. She won’t keep pretending that I’m ill, and I have to take the 136 bus, because she doesn’t drive me anymore. She kisses me goodbye and gives me a look that says, Don’t tell, and I wonder what they do when I’m not there. Is Logan happier when it’s just the two of them? Does Mum try harder and tell more lies, or do they stay in different rooms?

Nia is waiting for me at the school gates, and she beams when she sees me. “Guess what?”

It would only be a sentence. That’s how quickly I could say it. But then what? Mum would be furious, and Dad would tell me I shouldn’t have. And Nia can’t help, anyway.

“What?” I say.

“I’m getting a little brother.”

“What?”

“My mum’s pregnant. I’m finally going to be a big sister.”

It feels like I’ve fallen and I can’t get up because this must be a joke. The world took Will and then gave Mrs. Nkansa the baby boy she always wanted.

“How’s that little brother of yours?” Nia’s mum used to ask at the gates, even though they never met.

And I would say “fine” or “great” or “wild” because he was all those things, but not anymore.

Now he’s a word I can’t speak, and Nia is looking at me like, Why are you not happy?

I think back to her mum saying, “You must visit us sometime. Nia would love that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

I never did, and now I never will. “That’s good,” I say.

Nia huffs. “It’s better than good.”

I feel the tears, but can’t stop them, and Nia doesn’t understand because she thinks they’re for her. She thinks I’m crying happy tears so she hugs me and says, “Isn’t it amazing?”

“Yes,” I lie.

Nia doesn’t stop talking about it all morning, but something changes at lunch because she goes quiet, then says, “Are you okay?”

I want to scream, “No!” I want to tell the whole cafeteria what happens when I’m at home and about Will and how I did something horrible and then something worse.

I breathe in and listen to the sounds and imagine how loud I’d have to shout to make them stop.

“Amy?” Nia says. “What’s wrong?”