Conway started moving again, photo balanced between her fingertips. ‘You think lying to us is the same as telling your teacher you left your homework on the bus, or telling your parents you didn’t sneak a drink at the disco. Wrong. It’s nothing like that. This isn’t small-time bullshit that’ll vanish when you leave school. This is real.’

All their eyes following Conway. Pulled by her; hungry.

She was their mystery. Not like me, not like guys, an alien mystery they were learning to barter and bargain with, a thing they knew to want but didn’t know why. Conway was theirs. She was a woman, grown: she knew things. How to wear what suited her, how to have sex right or how to turn it down, how to get her bills paid, how to balance through the wild world outside the school walls. The water where they were dipping their toes, she was over her head in it and swimming.

They wanted to get closer to her, finger her sleeves. They were judging her hard, deciding did she come up to the mark. Wondering if they would, someday. Trying to see the precarious trail that led from them to her.

‘I’m gonna spell this out for you: if you know who murdered Chris, then you’re in serious danger. Danger like, you could get killed.’ She flicked the photo through the air, a sharp snap. ‘You think this card is gonna stay a secret? If the rest of this lot here haven’t spread it round the school already, they will by the end of today. How long is it gonna take for word to get back to the killer? How long is it gonna take him or her to work out who his problem is? And what do you think a killer does about that kind of problem?’

Her voice was good. Straight, clipped, intent. Adult to adult: she’d been paying attention to what worked for me. ‘You’re in danger. Tonight. Tomorrow. Every second, right up until you tell us what you know. Once you’ve done that, the killer’s got no reason to go after you. But up until then . . .’

A shiver again, a ripple. Joanne’s lot swapping those covert sideways checks. Julia scraping something off a knuckle, eyes down.

Conway pacing faster. ‘If you made up this card for the laugh, you’re in just as much danger. The killer doesn’t know you were mucking about. He, or she, can’t afford to take risks. And as far as she’s concerned, you’re a risk.’