Brooke’s forehead crinkled in bewilderment as she glared at her mother, looking for any sign that she was telling the truth. ‘Can I go and see them and identify if it was them or not?’

Rebecca shook her head. ‘You won’t be able to because not even their next of kin would. Each of them had their head covered in a hessian sack and they were beaten to a pulp.’

‘So why should I believe it’s them just because they had my belongings? What you’ve told me doesn’t amount to much really. Those men could have obtained them from anywhere. And here’s another thought for you and your friends in the police. Have any of you considered that the evidence might have been planted?’

Poppy was now fuming. It was her opening to turn detective. ‘You see, Mother, if the police had taken a swab from Brooke instead of just giving her the fucking morning-after pill, they could’ve done a DNA match, and we would’ve known for fucking sure.’

Rebecca knew her daughter was right, but she decided to brazen it out. ‘It is them, Brooke. Your uncle is absolutely convinced it’s them.’

‘And was he fucking there then when I was gang-raped? How the hell can he be so sure, eh? Do fucking enlighten me.’

Rebecca threw her an irritated look. ‘I am not going to discuss this anymore. They have found the men who raped you, so that’s an end to it. Stop looking for an argument, both of you. You should just trust me. I am your mother.’ With that, she stomped past the two girls and headed upstairs.

But if Rebecca thought she’d got away with her final rejoinder, she was wrong.

Poppy wasn’t done. She stood at the bottom of the stairs and screamed up, ‘Trust you, Mother? You obviously don’t know the meaning of the word “trust”. Fuck you, Mother. The only word you know the meaning of is “fuck”, don’t you?’

She took a few deep breaths and returned to the kitchen to find Brooke making coffee, now immersed in thought. The jigsaw puzzle was complete.

‘Poppy, maybe we went over the top just now. The chances are they do have the right men, especially if they had my stuff.’

Poppy tutted and sat on the breakfast bar stool. ‘You and me, in fact, all of this family, aren’t at all close, are we? Kendall hated it here. In fact, she hated every day of it because she wanted to be with her dad. He was here the other day. He’s a really nice man. I’ll tell you this, though. He had grief stamped on his forehead, unlike Mother and Father. It’s all a facade really, but things will change. From now on, it’s you and me against the world.’