Conway pulled the door to behind her. Quietly, so as not to reach Selena: ‘How come you never told me you had a thing going with Finn Carroll?’

Julia’s jaw tightened. ‘Bloody Joanne. Right?’

‘Doesn’t matter. Last year, I asked you about relationships with Colm’s guys. How come you said nothing?’

‘Because there was nothing to say. It wasn’t a relationship; Finn and I never touched each other. We just liked each other. As actual human beings. And that’s exactly why we didn’t tell anyone we were hanging out, which we barely even were anyway, only for like two seconds. But we knew everyone would be like, “OMG, hee-hee-hee, Finn and Julia sitting in a tree . . . ” And we didn’t feel like putting up with that bullshit. OK?’

I thought of Joanne and Gemma, snickering low in the darkness, and I believed her. So did Conway. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Fair enough.’ And as Julia turned away: ‘What’s Finn at these days? He doing OK?’

Just for a second, the slash of grief turned Julia’s face into an adult’s. ‘I wouldn’t know,’ she said, and went back into the common room and closed the door.

Selena was waiting outside her room. The low sun through the window at the end of the corridor sent her shadow towards us, floating over the glowing red tiles. The singing had started up again. O virgin most tender, our homage we render . . .

Selena said, ‘It’s break time. We should be outside. People are getting sort of fidgety.’

‘I know, yeah,’ Conway said, brushing past her and getting comfortable on Julia’s bed. Sitting differently this time, one foot tucked under her, teenager curled up for a chat. ‘Tell you what: when we finish up with all this, I’ll ask McKenna if she’d let yous have a late break outside. How’s that?’

Selena glanced down the corridor, dubious. ‘I guess.’

In danger defend us, in sorrow befriend us . . . Raggedy, splintering at the edges. I thought I saw that flash of wide-awake silver in Selena’s face again, saw her seeing something we shouldn’t miss.

If it was there, Conway didn’t spot it. ‘Great. Have a seat.’ Selena sat on the edge of her bed. I shut the door – the singing vanished – and melted into a corner, got out my notebook to hide behind.

‘Lovely.’ Conway pulled out her phone, tapped at the screen. ‘Have a look at this,’ she said, and passed it to Selena.

It hit her. Even if I hadn’t been able to hear it – bumping footsteps, rustling branches – I’d’ve known what it was, by Selena.

She went white, not red. Her head reared back, away from the screen, and her face had a terrible, violated dignity to it. The shorn hair, nothing to hide behind, made her look stripped naked. I felt like I should look away.