‘I know, I know. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but if you’re in danger still, if you think your parents might be in danger … surely we should go to the police? I can help you!’

But Emily looked away and a silence stretched between them, before Clara pressed gently, ‘Why did you want to meet with me? I mean, I know you wanted to talk about Luke, find out how the search is going, but … I get the impression there was another reason …’

Something in Emily’s face altered and Clara understood that she was right. Carefully she reached out and touched Emily’s arm. ‘If there’s anything you want to talk to me about, you can. I want to help you.’

Abruptly Emily got up and went to the window, staring down at the street below. ‘Clara, please don’t …’ she began. In her agitation she swiped a hand through her hair, an unconscious, nervous gesture that caused the T-shirt she was wearing to rise a few inches.

Clara felt her heart almost stop. ‘Jesus,’ she said in alarm. ‘What happened to your back?’

Emily turned to face her, hurriedly tugging her T-shirt back into place. ‘Nothing. It’s nothing,’ she said.

Clara got to her feet, shock propelling her across the room to where Emily stood. Without another word she lifted the fabric and recoiled in horror. The skin on the lower half of Emily’s back was grotesquely scarred; puckered and discoloured as though it had been terribly burned. ‘Emily,’ she whispered, ‘what happened to you?’

But Emily jerked away, her eyes widening with something close to panic. ‘Please, Clara, don’t—’

‘When did this happen?’

It seemed to Clara then that the expression in Emily’s eyes changed, something dark and harsh and bitter transforming her into someone else entirely, so that Clara gave an involuntary shiver. ‘It was a long time ago, when I was seventeen,’ Emily said.

‘Seventeen?’ Clara shook her head in confusion. ‘When you were still living at home? I don’t understand—’

Emily stared at her and Clara held her breath, sure that Emily was going to tell her something and she leaned forward, again touching her arm. ‘Emily,’ she said, ‘you can tell me. Who did this to you? How did it happen? If you’re still scared of whoever it was, if they’re preventing you from going home, I’ll help you. You can stay here with me, I’ll go to the police with you, it will be all right, I promise.’

Tears spilled down Emily’s face, her eyes searching Clara’s. ‘I—’ she began, but at that moment Clara’s phone started to ring, startling her into silence. ‘Who’s that?’ she asked nervously.