‘You guys don’t know how lucky you are, eating like this,’ Warren observed. From his post by the kitchen door he was keeping a close eye on his section. ‘If you were in the army, you’d be issued with MREs. A slice of bread in a vacuum pack. Marmalade in a tube. Freeze-dried teriyaki beef.’

‘Whoops!’ Tyler went chasing after another garlic clove that had leaped out of the crusher and skittered across the floor into the pantry.

Sam laughed. ‘Jeez, Ty, I’d hate to see you squashing a bug. There’d be guts everywhere.’

Tyler ignored him. The blender suddenly howled. I scanned the kitchen, alert for any tension or hidden rancour, but no one threw me a sideways look. No one was sulking or seething.

After dinner, while I was supervising the kitchen cleanup, I popped out to the bins and found Shaun there, with Jake.

‘Uh—Miss Ayres?’ Jake glanced at Shaun, who nodded.

I froze like a spotlit rabbit.

‘I want to apologise,’ Jake went on, ‘for dumping rubbish on your bed.’

His tone was muted, his head bowed. He sounded very uncomfortable.

I waited.

‘And I’m sorry for what I said yesterday,’ he continued. ‘It was gross.’

‘It was against the law.’ That made him look up. But he couldn’t meet my gaze for long; his eyes quickly slid away.

‘I’m not your mum,’ I told him, and the colour flared in his cheeks. ‘There’s only one of her. You need to remember that, or you’re going to wreck a lot of lives. Including your own.’

He grunted, staring at the ground. I was moving back to the kitchen when he mumbled, ‘I could find out about those nails.’

I stopped. Shaun said, ‘Enough.’

But Jake kept going. ‘I could figure out who did it. By asking around. You’d just have to leave me alone.’

I had to admire him. He was such an operator. Shaun immediately marched him off, then came back later while I was heading across the parade ground. At that point there was a lot of traffic between the dormitory and the bathroom, so Shaun steered me towards a quieter spot near the dining hall.

‘Marcus wasn’t responsible for those nails. He’s too slow and his feet are enormous. Size eleven,’ Shaun said.

‘Right.’

‘I don’t think it was Zac either. Gut feeling. That kid’s had the smartarse knocked right out of him.’ There was a pause as Shaun tracked someone’s course across the grass, making sure he went straight into the bathroom. ‘Nathan’s my pick,’ he said at last. ‘I can’t be certain, but there’s something not right. He’s too squirrelly. We’ll keep him in our crosshairs—see if we can wear him down.’

‘Okay.’ I was tired. ‘See you tomorrow, then.’