‘She ran away from me and all my chaos. From the embarrassment of being Cat Cannon’s daughter. My job is to get healthy for her. So that one day she might come back to me. I feel like, maybe she’s in India. Some place like that. A different country. Why are you here, Lorna? Just to stir up more shit?’

‘You were at Michael’s house yesterday,’ I say, voice low. ‘Right?’

Cat hesitates. ‘Yeah. For his party.’

‘My daughter is there. Michael has my sixteen-year-old teenage daughter. Did you see her?’

Cat blinks eyelash implants at me. ‘Your daughter? Are you feeling okay?’

‘No, I’m not feeling good at all. My daughter is the same age Annalise was when she went missing. Doesn’t that disturb you? She would have been at the party yesterday. Or … or somewhere in the house.’ Nausea turns my stomach over.

Cat stubs out her half-smoked cigarette and lights another. ‘You know, Michael’s been a good friend to me. Who he has at his parties are his business.’

‘He’s a psychopath.’

Cat looks at red lipstick on her cigarette butt. ‘I believed that too, once upon a time. But I don’t believe it now, Lorna. I just don’t.’

‘They never searched his grounds. If they had …’

‘There wasn’t any evidence, Lorna. Doesn’t that tell you something?’

‘Yes. It tells me Michael has the police in his pocket. They wouldn’t believe anything you said. Remember?’

‘Yeah, well, I had no proof.’ Cat lifts her big blue eyes. ‘The police tore me apart. Opiates are no good for a clear and concise testimony. Which wasn’t my testimony anyway – you told me to say it.’

I look her right in the eye. ‘Cat. I was telling you the truth then and I’m telling it now. About Annalise. About everything.’

Cat pulls hard on her cigarette and shakes her head. ‘Uh uh. No way. No way. Listen, Lorna. I believed all that “Michael is a psycho” stuff because I needed a reason that wasn’t my fault. Denial. Closure. Whatever you want to call it. But Annalise is out there somewhere. I know she is.’

‘Cat.’ My voice is soft, tears coming. ‘I was with Annalise when it happened.’

‘Hey.’ Cat holds up a hand. ‘Let’s not go there, right? You’ve vomited this story at me too many times. You were so crazy back then, Lorna…’

‘Who wouldn’t be? I was a teenager living with a psycho.’

‘Listen, I know Michael wasn’t totally straight with the press,’ says Cat. ‘But Jesus, after the things you said about him. I mean, you were all out to ruin him. Destroy his career, marriage, his whole life practically. And have him rot in jail. Michael’s not such a bad guy. You’re wrong about him. He’s not perfect but he has a good heart.’

‘He’s brainwashed you,’ I accuse.