Something silent flashes between them, and Amy downs the water in four gulps, then hands it back and smiles. Except it’s not a happy smile. It makes her mother cringe.

“Well, thank you for returning our daughter.”

I’ve waited a long time to get inside this house, to see if Amy’s new door is the same as her old one and if her walls are as white as the hallway or completely different, but I need to get out.

The air seems heavy. There’s a tension I haven’t felt since we lived with Martin. And that’s when I hear a creak above us. I know it’s Amy’s dad, because I’ve seen him through the windows. But he looks different tonight.

He doesn’t speak until he’s sitting next to Amy on the bottom step, and, when he does, his voice is softer than I expected. He strokes her hair. “You okay?”

She doesn’t reply. Instead, like the day we met, her mum talks for her. “She’s fine.”

The man looks up at me and says, “Who’s this?”

“Tom was nice enough to bring her home.”

Amy’s dad stands, shakes my hand, and says, “That was nice of him.”

He squeezes a bit too tight, nods, and lets go. Then he opens the front door and says, “Good night, then.”

I look down at Amy, who glances up at me and says, “See ya.”

I wait a few more seconds, overstaying my welcome, but who cares?

I could run up the stairs and find out if there are locks on their doors before they could catch me. But then what? Would they let me leave if I’m right? And what would they do if I’m wrong?

“Night,” I say.

Amy’s dad walks me to the gate, then smiles as we stand on opposite sides. Her brother is watching from an upstairs window, and her mum waits by the front door, but Amy has already disappeared.

When the gate clunks shut, her dad says, “See you around, Tom.”

It’s just what people say. It doesn’t mean anything.

Except, this time, it sounds like a threat.

28

I can’t sleep. Instead, I watch Amy’s house from my window, the three lights below the rain gutters painting yellow spots on their driveway.

Everything about the place looks secure. There are twenty-five gold spikes on each railing, the metal separated by thick brick columns.