There was a knock on the door, and a light flashed above it. In a school full of deaf students and several deaf staff, there would be a number of adaptations to make daily life accessible for all. Liz moved out of her chair to answer it, but Forest got there before her. Sasha stood in the doorway, wearing a long bohemian-style skirt and a bright red shirt, her curly blonde hair making her seem taller than she was.

Sorry, I’ve been busy with Cassie, she signed. She offered her hand to both of the detectives then sat down next to Liz Marcek. Have you found Leon yet?

I got the feeling that this was going to be the first question anyone asked us until the boy was found.

‘I’m afraid not,’ Singh replied, the frown on his face mirroring her concern. ‘We’re doing all we can to find out what happened and where he might have gone after he was in the pavilion. Miss Marcek has told us about his family history, and we want to rule out the idea that he might have wanted to visit his father.’

That’s very unlikely, Sasha replied, confirming what the deputy head had told us. I can get you his details if you want to make sure. Leon is such a lovely young man, but he went through a lot in a short space of time, with the death of his mother and then his father’s abuse. The school had given him the option to become a residential student before, but when he’d just lost his mum the last thing he wanted was to end up living at his school.

Sasha spread her palms wide. After his father’s arrest, it became the only option, and actually it ended up suiting him surprisingly well. As far as I’m aware, he’s well liked, and he didn’t tell me of any difficulties he was having.

‘Had there been any incidents of bullying, anything like that?’

We’re very strict with our bullying policy, Liz interjected, before Sasha had a chance to reply. We don’t tolerate anything like that, whether it’s in class or in the residence.

Sasha waited for Liz to finish then turned back to us. Not that I know of. There have been disagreements, but that’s natural in this sort of environment. You have to remember these students are always together: they live in close quarters, and they only really socialise with each other. It can mean they’re very close, sometimes so close that no outsider can really understand their group dynamics. At other times it can be like a dry bonfire and the smallest spark will set off an inferno. I try to maintain a strong relationship with the students here, and I visit once a week, but they don’t tell me everything. They’re teenagers, she said with a shrug, as if that explained everything.