I look back at her dad, whose face shows no signs of the beating he had, and whose arm rests on the shoulders of a wife who doesn’t look betrayed.

Amy’s brother laughs at something unseen, and his parents smile at each other. And, in that moment, I think of Mum and Jay and Nia and Aaron. This is how they looked last night as we sat watching the same film for the hundredth time. I was there, on the sofa next to them, not hidden away upstairs like Amy is, now. But I think I felt like her.

I felt separate, as if I was watching them. And, when you watch, you see things other people don’t, like a girl leaving behind clues she’s too scared to admit to and telling lies for reasons you can’t quite understand.

36

Before Jay paints over the words, I take a picture, and he gives me a funny look, but doesn’t ask why.

If he scrolled through my phone, he’d see lots of strange things, like Amy’s house the way it appears from my window, and her parents and brother looking like ghosts through two sets of double glazing. And, now, hundreds of tiny pleas in writing I need to compare with Amy’s before I can be certain.

It’s not until the room is magnolia all over that I realize how far the words stretched. Without them, the walls look empty.

I message Zak, asking if he’s free, and, ten minutes later, I’m watching his dad chase his brother around the living room while his mum feeds his sister in her high chair.

Zak’s house is carnage, but I love it. He was an only child, like me, until he was ten, and then, suddenly, he wasn’t. Harrison is six, Ivy’s nearly one, and Zak’s parents look like they need a rest. But they’re always pleased to see me, and, sometimes, I wonder how my life would look if Dad hadn’t left.

Would I have siblings…real ones that didn’t resent me? I can’t imagine Mum with another kid, but that’s only because of how life worked out. She jokes with Jay that she’s too old for a baby, now.

We go to Zak’s room for some peace, and he flops on his bed. “How’s the spying mission going?”

I ignore him, because that’s not what I want to talk about. But he laughs and says, “You know I love you, man. But you have to let this go.”

“I didn’t say anything. You brought it up.”

“It’s all over your face, Tom. It’s literally all you’re thinking about. I’ve seen you worry about a lot of things. I know what that looks like.”

“You think I’m being stupid.”