As I walk back to my car, beneath the rain-spattered hazy street lights, I wonder if I did the right thing, not telling Robin about Bella. That I really think she might be my daughter. I tell myself the reason I kept quiet about her is because there wasn’t time – it never cropped up in the conversation. But I know that’s not the real reason.

I worried that he would only tell me what Matt told me – that I’m mistaken. That the chances are miniscule. That I’m only seeing what I want to see. But a mother knows these things. The more I think about it, the more I truly believe that Bella is my missing daughter. I know it in my gut. Especially after yesterday evening with the Morrises. Kate texted me this morning to thank me for dinner and to apologise for them leaving early. But it wasn’t a chatty, friendly text. It was formal and detached. I replied that I was so sorry she’d been unwell and I hoped we could reschedule when she was feeling better. Her reply took ages to come through and when it did it was the shortest text ever: ty – short for thank you. A sudden shot of anxiety hit me when I read it. She’s pulling away from me. How will I get to see Bella now?

There’s something very strange going on with the Morrises. Perhaps Kate is getting some twisted kick out of befriending me. Perhaps she’s been taunting me with the daughter she stole and now I’m on the scent, she’s backing off. A sudden, glaring anger drenches my body. How dare she! How dare she flaunt my child in my face. She’s denied me the right to be a mother to my daughter. As the rage builds, my hands begin to shake. I think back to what my counsellor said – that it wasn’t my fault Holly was taken, it was the person who took her. I can hardly believe that at long last I might be able to get some justice. To make my child’s abductor pay.

I finally reach my car and take deep steadying breaths to stem the threatening tears. Who will believe me? Who will help me? A smidgeon of doubt creeps in once more. Has Kate really been raising my daughter all these precious years? But if it’s true, how would she have got away with it? I can’t let myself be deterred from discovering the truth.

Suddenly I have an idea of how I might be able to find out more.

13

Then