The two weeks had flown by, and already Beth had learned so much. She had come to know her friend’s sounds and her smells – the intimacies of early morning breath, the fug of night sweat lingering in the little room – just as familiar to her now as Corinne’s tics and habits. Every morning, the surprise of her frosted hair, like icing on a child’s birthday cake. It felt like Beth was shoring up all these little details so that when Corinne was gone, there would be something left to sustain her through the weeks and months of their separation.

‘We should go somewhere,’ Corinne said, pushing aside her fries and tapping a rapid rhythm on the countertop, already looking towards the door.

It startled Beth sometimes, the speed at which Corinne’s mood changed. One minute she was morose and withdrawn, the next she was commanding, fizzing with energy.

‘Where?’

Corinne flashed her a conspiratorial smile. ‘I have an idea.’

The house was in darkness.

Beth felt her stomach dropping with sudden nerves while she fumbled with the keys. She pushed the door open and reached for the lights. Flicking the switch a couple of times, the hall remained in darkness.

‘They must have turned off the electricity,’ she whispered, a sinking feeling of disappointment inside.

But Corinne was not put off. She took out her mobile phone and used the torch function to light their way. There was an odd echoey stillness to the place. Most of the furniture in the rooms remained: the couch, the nesting set of coffee tables, the old writing desk. But the clutter that filled the shelves and cabinets had been cleared. The air carried a familiar smell, but the thin light cast by their phones through the gloom lent a strangeness to the house that inspired both unease and a peculiar excitement within them both.

In the kitchen, Beth watched as Corinne flipped open the cupboard doors, hunting for food, but there was nothing there. The fridge had been unplugged and cleaned, but it still gave off a rank odour like sour milk.

‘Let’s go upstairs,’ Corinne suggested, and they felt their way through the shadows, the torchlight swinging wildly in front of them.

Darkness made the house feel smaller, and as they reached the top of the stairs and stepped into Melissa’s bedroom, Beth felt the chill in the air of the unheated house. The curtains were drawn back and behind the bare window was the skeletal outline of branches of the mock orange tree growing in the garden.

‘Is this where she died?’ Corinne asked, and when Beth nodded, the French girl giggled and gave a shudder.

‘Spooky!’ she said, her teeth gleaming through the darkness. ‘Abi found her?’