Madison took a deep, shaky breath.

‘Cierra is loving. Incredibly loving. She builds relationships faster than anyone else I know. With friends, family . . . teachers.

‘I should’ve known from the start. I mean, Miss Ellis has always been closer to us than any other teacher . . . after her niece died last year – Denni King, you all remember – we became even closer. We’d lost a friend, but she’d lost a family member. I didn’t know at the time, but . . . Cierra and Miss Ellis began to comfort each other . . .

‘Now, I’m not a homophobe. Cierra is free to love whoever she wants to love . . . but I can’t sit back and let people like Jack Michaels and Mr Murphy take the blame when the one who was sleeping with my sister was Miss Eliza Ellis. And . . . if you needed any more proof . . . here’s Cierra herself.’

The scene cut to another face: identical but in a different part of the room, different make-up, wearing a violet wig. Eliza knew, though. It wasn’t Cierra, it was just Madison trying to look like Cierra.

‘. . . I love her. And I know she loves me. Maybe it won’t last, but isn’t this the time to experiment? Miss Ellis makes me feel happier than I’ve ever felt . . .’ said Cierra/Madison. ‘Why should that be anyone’s business but my own?’

Eliza turned her phone off.

How could she fight that? How could she convince people that Madison was pretending to be Cierra?

And if she did . . . what would happen to Wren? Everything always came back to her. She felt deeply, deeply exhausted.

Eliza sat at a metal table in one of the station’s interview rooms, the fluoro lights sparking the beginnings of a headache at the back of her skull. Tom had arranged and paid for a lawyer – an old, thin-faced woman called Rosalie – who sat beside her, lips pursed.

Detective Melinda Tran sat across from them, taking her jacket off, eyes dark and foreboding. She was alone.

‘Have you had sexual relations with Cierra Mason?’ said Detective Tran, her lips pressed in a hard line.

‘I think she needs a moment,’ said Rosalie.

‘I’m afraid she’s had long enough,’ said Detective Tran.

‘Eliza, dear, you are going to need to answer them – just tell them the truth,’ said Rosalie.

The truth . . .?

You have permission to be strong.

‘Yes.’ Eliza had to force herself to say it. ‘Yes, I have.’

‘What? Eliza, did you understand the question?’ said Rosalie.

‘I think she understood the question perfectly,’ said Detective Tran. ‘How long has this been going on? Who else knew?’

‘I don’t know. No one.’

‘Did you conspire to have Cierra kidnapped?’ said Detective Tran.

‘Of course not.’

‘Then who do the condoms belong to? The marijuana?’

‘The weed is mine. The condoms were from my last fling.’

‘With a man?’ said Detective Tran.

‘Obviously.’

‘You identify as bisexual?’

‘That is not pertinent,’ hissed Rosalie.