Charlie gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. ‘Everyone basically left her to it. She’d have tantrums sometimes, but she’d been quieter lately. I was glad of that. She didn’t have any friends. Maybe if she spent more time with people in real life, than online, it would be different. It’s not like anyone cares what I think anyway. As long as I’m going to school and keeping out of sight, everyone’s happy. No one gives one if I’m happy or not. It was all about the twins.’

‘Is your Uncle Rich around a lot?’

A shrug of the shoulders. ‘I don’t really notice anymore. I try and keep out of their way. I just want to get out of here as soon as possible.’

‘Still, it must have been a shock when Emily went missing.’

Charlie didn’t answer for a few seconds, looking away from Mark again. When he spoke, his voice had softened somewhat. ‘Not really. She is… she was… different. Always living in Stephanie’s shadow. Like we all were. Only it was probably harder for her. You ask me, if she didn’t top herself… if something actually happened to her, I wouldn’t go looking very far for answers.’

Mark watched as Charlie’s eyes flicked towards the back garden again. He turned to look and by the time he’d turned back around, Charlie had disappeared from the kitchen.

Mark turned back to the counter, glancing up at the window, averting his eyes when he saw the uncle outside.

Watching him.

Thirteen

The journey to the morgue had been quiet, the back of the car thick with tension. Mark was sitting in the passenger seat, Julie and Stephanie in the back. The driver had picked them up without a word, knowing this wasn’t the time to talk, thankfully. Before then, it had been a rough few hours back at the house, endless questions he couldn’t answer, thrown at him with increasing venom.

Charlie had skulked off back upstairs, which had been a relief. He knew he needed to speak to him more, but that morning wasn’t the time. He had been hesitant to leave him alone with the uncle, but a uniform was now at the house and would be on a more permanent basis, if his growing suspicion about Emily’s death was eventually confirmed.

He didn’t think it was suicide. Others would call it a gut feeling, but he just felt there was something more to this. The conversation with Charlie had helped bolster that idea. There was some part of the story he wasn’t quite seeing clearly.

Yet.

Now, this. A family IDing a body. Another of those parts of his jobs he hated the most.

At last count, there were at least seven or eight things he hated the most.