As she lay, she watched the clock turn forty minutes. Within that time, people arrived at her house, just as promised. She didn’t hear a single knock at the front door, suggesting they’d sneaked in the back way, like burglars, to avoid stoking the neighbours’ curiosity. But she heard new voices out there and imagined her house filling up as the machinery of a major police investigation whirred into life. Just the visible part of the iceberg, of course: those running the show, veteran detectives directing from the top. Beneath the surface would be the greater mass: those making calls, knocking doors, hitting keyboards. Dozens, maybe, all hoping to find a lost little girl. All hunting Nick.

The Family Liaison Officer, a skinny lady with big eyes, poked her head in to say hello. She would be around for a chat if Anna needed a friendly ear or had any questions. Anna told her that would be great, thanks, maybe later. The woman didn’t insist, and maybe that was part of her skill set, and maybe Miller had pre-warned her that Anna, though confused and dejected, was level-headed and knew what she needed.

Miller leaned in to offer a cup of tea and to show her a collection of cards about the size of electronic tablets, with large printed text. The detective explained what they were and looked somewhat apologetic doing so. The tea Anna accepted; the cards she tried not to look at. Miller didn’t push it, clearly sensing Anna’s contempt. She praised Anna’s strength, told her to try to memorise the information on the cards, even if it seemed silly, and then left when a colleague called for her.

Anna drank and nervously feared a visit by her father, whose accusations and that well-practised look of disappointment she wasn’t ready for. But he didn’t show himself. She couldn’t fully convince herself he was busy trying to shoehorn himself into the thick of the investigation.

Hope you’ve got good pictures of Josie in your head. You’ll need them.

She lay and listened to myriad muted voices, and mobiles ringing, and the thud of many feet, and tried to evict that terrible text message threat from her head. Nothing worked until she heard someone knock on the front door. She jumped up so fast her tea spilled, but the urgency was gone half a second later: Nick wouldn’t just knock.

Someone appeared outside the ajar bedroom door. Anna approached and peered through the gap. Miller stood outside, giving a long yawn. She smoothed her hair, shrugged to get her suit jacket comfortable, and rubbed her eyes.