She wants me to tell her everything I know. But I know more than she thinks. I open my mouth to speak, then catch Mum’s eye. I’ve seen that look so many times—the moment before she cries. I always wanted to stop it but couldn’t because I was too young or too scared or too helpless.

I could tell Amy’s family everything and force it out of them. Maybe not the truth, but something real, a glimpse of whatever they’re hiding. But, instead, I say, “I know, right? I saw a few holes and let my imagination get the better of me.”

Jane’s laugh is like the last trickle of an empty tap. Mum smiles at me, relief washing over her face. And then Amy’s hand touches mine. She doesn’t look at me. Her eyes are fixed firmly ahead. But she’s thanking me in her own way. Everyone knows I could make a scene because there’s enough evidence to shake it all out on the table and see how it lands. But I won’t do that to Mum. She’s worked so hard to make tonight perfect. I can’t take that away from her.

When I do finally challenge Amy’s family, they won’t be able to laugh their way out of it.

69

Once the table is clear, Amy whispers, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For believing me.”

How can I ask about the wind chimes and the box full of apologies now? She thinks I’ve finally admitted defeat when I’m preparing for a knockout blow.

“Why don’t you two play?” Jay says to Aaron and Will, but, while my stepbrother jumps out of his seat, Amy’s brother doesn’t move a muscle.

When Jane nudges him, he mumbles, “I’m ten,” and Aaron looks offended.

“I’m seventeen,” Nia says, “but we still play together, don’t we, mate?”

Aaron beams and looks at Will with the same eyes that get him a new toy whenever he wants.

“Fine,” Will mumbles, following him into the living room and sitting with a face on while my stepbrother explains everything in his toy box in fine detail.

Amy watches them, then turns to me and says, “This was a good idea.”

She’s still holding my hand under the table, drawing circles in my palm with her thumb. It tickles just enough to feel nice, and, when I’ve finally solved whatever’s going on, I hope she still does it. Because, when Amy touches me, I feel nervous and excited and a hundred other things, and I wish this wasn’t so confusing.

I wish I’d found nothing in her garden. I wish this was a normal dinner party with normal guests.