It mattered more when it was your own. You wanted everyone to feel the same way as you. To care as much. And it was never going to be that way and you knew it to be true. You never know the moment your life changes forever. Not until later, when you can look back and pinpoint it. He thought that would be what Julie would be doing now, going over every single moment she could possibly remember, trying to discover the moment when things had changed. When her daughter could have been saved from whatever was happening to her.

Mark knew it was never that simple.

He also knew the odds in play now. No suggestion of issues, no history of running away, no reason to leave… a young woman going missing in those circumstances usually doesn’t end well. Or they’re hiding something big enough that their life is never the same even if they do return.

But the blood. Mark kept returning to the blood that had been found.

Red equals danger.

‘I just keep thinking of that poor girl’s parents,’ Julie said, a flicker of sadness flashing across her face. ‘They won’t get a second chance like we have.’

‘Do you mind if I take another look in Emily’s room?’ Mark said, on his feet before he’d finished the question. ‘I know uniformed police have already gone through it, but I want to make sure we haven’t overlooked anything at all. Even the smallest thing might help.’

Julie nodded, waving him away with one hand as she turned the volume up on the television. Stephanie caught his eye as he slipped past, but he didn’t stop.

Mark heard soft music escaping from underneath a door as he reached the top of the stairs. Charlie – secluding himself away and listening to something vaguely familiar to him. A voice he’d heard on the radio or somewhere recently. He paused outside the door, trying to place the artist’s name, but eventually gave up. Downstairs, he heard mumbled voices, but couldn’t make out what was being said.

He walked across and pushed down on the handle to another room on the landing. He didn’t need to go inside, recognising the room as belonging to an older woman. The dressing table on view, the carefully placed ornaments, perfumes. He decided it was Julie’s room and turned back around. Down a short passage, he knew from an earlier trip, lay the bathroom, so he pushed open the door leading to the only other room leading off.

Stepping inside, Mark felt a wave of emotion hit him. The reality of what was left behind, now stark and uncompromising. He shuffled forwards, leaving the door open behind him as he walked further into the room.