Suddenly Anna is running the show. Telling everyone what to do and keeping tabs on all comments, shares, etc. Poor Elsie is sitting at the table, no phone, no friends to share messages with on social media. I feel so sorry for her, but she seems content to be here, to be part of something, anything, even something this horrible. Megan is making everyone tea, which might be the first cup of homemade tea Elsie has had in years.

Suddenly, Elsie stands up. I think she’s going over to help Megan give out the tea but her hand doesn’t reach for a cup. It reaches for the drawing of Joyce, the mad woman, the one the cops gave us to show the kids. It’s on a shelf below the counter. Elsie holds it in her hand and stares at it. My heart skips a beat. ‘Do you know her, Elsie? Do you know this woman?’

‘She was outside the salon.’

‘When, Elsie? When was she outside the salon?’ I can’t stop shaking. Could this be true? Did Elsie see that woman? For some reason this gives me hope, energy. This could be something.

‘A couple of times, last week or was it the week before?’

‘Did you talk to her, Elsie? Did you see where she went?’ I hold my breath to hear her answer. My eyes glued to her lips. My hopes glued to her words.

‘I followed her.’

My legs are struggling to hold me up but somehow make their way over to Elsie. I hug her. Cling to her before lifting my face to look at her. ‘Can you show me?’

She takes my hand, squeezes it tightly and nods.

Anna is suggesting we don’t involve the cops, that we take Elsie ourselves to where she says she saw the woman enter a building.

‘We’ll have a better chance of sneaking up on her, catching her off guard. A convoy of police vehicles and uniforms could send her over the top and if she has got Amber with her, she could…’ She stops then, knowing the rest of the words should not be spoken out loud.

I understand what Anna is saying but I don’t agree it’s right. What if she has a weapon? How would we disarm her?

I look at Sienna, a weapon of mass destruction when she wants to be. She had no problem kicking the gun out of the hand of the scumbag who tried to hold up the salon last year.

And Anna, the night she closed up shop on her own. She was pulling down the shutter when a guy approached her from behind and grabbed her. I doubt he’s been able to walk in a straight line since.

‘I’m not afraid of anyone, Sal.’ Amy speaks for the first time since entering my house. ‘Thanks, Amy.’