“She was so fuming and hurt because she’d idolized her mum so much, and she’d always been sold this idea of their family being so close—‘three sides of a triangle’ or something. And she got me all riled up, too, even more than I already was. She convinced me to help her mess with her mum . . . Like, she had this idea of targeting their perfect house. She said it would be like irony or something—”

“But it’s your house too, Zeb!”

“I know, Mum. It was a shitty plan. But I was in a shitty place . . .” He tapped between his eyes. “I was furious with you for keeping me apart from Dad. I wanted to punish you too—it wasn’t just about Freya’s mum. And once I’d started doing all that nasty stuff, it got weirdly addictive. That’s why I kept phoning you, I think. I wanted to confess, wanted you to make me stop. But I always chickened out.” He flattened his palm against his brow and seemed to press hard.

“Mate—” Robin began, but Emma cut him a look that silenced him. Except she didn’t know what to say to Zeb. Whether to scream at him or console him.

“What about after Freya disappeared?” she said. “How could you have kept doing those things, knowing what her parents must be going through?”

“I didn’t know, at first. I was living at Dad’s, out of the loop, but I kept on with the plan Freya had made. When you told me she’d disappeared, I thought she’d taken the plan to a major new level. I felt like I should step things up too. And every day I seemed to get angrier toward you, Mum, not calmer . . .”

Emma remembered the foul smell of dog dirt in their foyer. Her son had done that. Her son, who’d never done anything like it before, as far as she knew. She’d ignored the signs, though, hadn’t she? The recent temper that had led his teachers to suggest “a few anger-management sessions, nothing to be too concerned about.” The change in their relationship since she’d lied to him.

“Then, when I came here and saw it for myself—the police and the posters and everything—I realized there was no way she could be messing about. She really had gone.” Zeb’s voice cracked and Emma instinctively grabbed his hand. On his other side, she saw Robin take his arm. Her mum had stopped making tea and was standing very still by the boiled kettle.