When I close my eyes, I picture her leading that little boy out of the shop, and her face when I caught them later. What would have happened if I hadn’t been there? Would she have walked right out of the shopping center? And then what?

She had the clothes, and she was stalking the shops, waiting for her chance. And, when it came, she didn’t pause for a moment. Only the worst kind of people act like that. It was premeditated, and I need to understand why.

I can’t tell anyone what I saw without getting her into trouble. I should do it, anyway. She deserves it. Yet something stops me.

The holes and the words and the drawings are suddenly pointing to a different story; one I don’t want to hear.

I stare out of my window at a house that already looks so different. I used to think the gate was there to keep Amy in, but she can walk out whenever she wants. And, when she leaves, she does terrible things.

Do her parents even know? And what does it mean about the holes and the carvings?

I think of Amy’s journal, how she wrote that I can’t possibly know the truth. I have to talk to her. I need to know what’s going on.

“I don’t understand,” I say out loud.

Behind me, Mum asks, “What’s that, Tom?”

I jump back and stare at her, convinced she can read my mind.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about schoolwork.”

Mum shakes her head. “You know you can talk to me. We used to talk all the time.”

We did. But it was different, then. Most of our conversations were whispered and full of fear. We stopped telling each other everything when Jay came along.

I can’t tell Mum what Amy did. I’m still trying to make sense of it. Yet, for a moment, I almost say it, anyway. If anyone will understand, it’s Mum. She’s used to people not being what they seem. But I hold my tongue, and she touches my shoulder and says, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She gazes out of my window. “When Jay first asked me out, I said no. He accepted it, but we stayed friends. And, one day, when I started to trust him, he asked again, and I said yes. Even then, I was waiting for the first sign that something was wrong. I’d promised myself that we wouldn’t suffer anymore, so I was on my guard. And I stayed that way for a long time. I always expected the worst, even when all the evidence suggested otherwise.”