A little girl stands at the mouth of the hallway. She has clearly just woken up, her blonde hair flaring messily around her face. A long T-shirt skims her knees, an AC/DC logo splashed across the front of it.

‘Go back to bed,’ Cara says.

‘No!’ Oli says. ‘We want to talk to you. Is your name Evie?’

The little girl nods.

‘What’s going on, Oli?’ Rusty is holding his phone.

Oli puts her hands on her knees. ‘Where’s your mum, Evie?’

Evie looks at Cara then back at Oli. She takes a step away.

‘Please leave us alone,’ Cara says hopelessly.

Oli ignores her and tries to remain calm. ‘Can you tell me where she is, Evie?’

‘Oli,’ Rusty cautions.

The baby begins to cry again, in long screeching wails that dance up Oli’s spine. She moves toward Evie and kneels on the floor, knees cracking. ‘Evie, I’m looking for your mum. Is she here?’

Evie shakes her head.

Oli’s stomach drops as an anvil of realisation ploughs through her, the past few days streaming by in fast forward. She looks at Evie’s face: her wideset eyes, snub nose, ivory skin. Wavy blonde hair.

‘My mum’s gone,’ Evie says, as Oli scrambles to her feet.

It can’t be true, but she knows it is. She backs away from Evie and collides with Rusty, who grips her shoulders. ‘Rusty,’ she breathes.

‘I’m calling Bowman,’ he says firmly.

Cara is crying. Her sobs merge with the baby’s cries. ‘Please, let me explain.’

‘Rusty.’ Oli’s voice catches. ‘Oh god.’

He’s already on the phone, giving someone the address. After he hangs up, Oli pulls him into the corner of the room, still staring at Cara and Evie.

‘What is it, Oli?’ he says, looking into her eyes. ‘What?’

‘It’s her,’ she whispers. ‘I think we’ve found Louise Carter.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN