Irritation bubbles up in my stomach. I could go and tattletale to Hyacinth but where would that get me? It won’t change anything.

‘Anyway, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be any more help, princess,’ he says with a smug smile. ‘But I’m sure you’ll do a fine job.’

Panic floods through me. I don’t have enough for a whole story right now, just: I went to a party, Sabine saw us on the roof and ran out and Noah followed her. I can’t mention the CCTV in the metro without pissing off Luneau and I’m loathe to mention the white car. As much as I want this story, I don’t want to impede the investigation. But I need more. I need a spine for it. Something to make it stand out. A hook.

‘Well, could I speak to your source?’ I ask. ‘Hyacinth did ask you to help me.’

‘She asked me to tell you what I knew. I’ve done that.’ He stands up. ‘And no, Harper, I cannot reveal my source to you. But if you’re so well qualified to write this story, I’m sure you’ll figure it all out.’ He heads for the door. ‘Now, I’ve got to get back to work, I’m afraid. Good luck.’ Then the door bangs shut after him.

And I’m left with an empty notebook, twenty-four hours to write my first feature article and the sibilant whisperings of my inner critic: Don’t fail now, princess…

My phone beeps and my eyes dart to the screen.

Camilla: Love you.

I love her too, but I’m too stressed to answer. Because the time has just clicked over to 12.43 pm and the letters of my article are glowering at me like little black question marks against the blue-white light of my screen. I’ve been staring at this first draft for twenty minutes now, trying to talk myself off the ledge. Because at the moment it reads like a woman’s magazine article, a slightly eerie puff piece. And that’s not what I’m going for. Because this is my chance to show Hyacinth what I can do. I might not get another one.

My phone beeps again: xxx.

She’s worried because after that shitty interlude with Stan I needed space to think. And so I hid in the loos for fifteen minutes, struggling to swallow, texting Camilla: They found her body. She’s definitely dead.

Camilla called me straight away, of course. And I answered in a whisper in case somebody came in: ‘Hey.’

‘Come home. It’ll be fine. But just come home.’