As she sat across from Dawn, Morgan tried to build up the courage to ask where their relationship was going. They were in Joanne’s coffee shop, a watery milkshake before them and a cardboard straw that wasn’t up to the job. A cheerful tune played in the background, so at odds with the welcome Morgan had received from the proprietor. She cast her eyes around the cosy setting, with its warm amber lighting and local artistry on the walls. Two customers were queuing for drinks while three more were sitting, eating food. Morgan and Dawn were the youngest people in the room. This was too public a place to talk about their relationship, especially now she had come out.

‘Can’t we go somewhere more private?’ Morgan twiddled her straw as Joanne shot her yet another dagger glare.

‘Hardly, given the way Dad’s acting,’ Dawn said glumly. ‘If I didn’t work here, I wouldn’t be able to see you at all.’

‘He doesn’t approve of us, does he?’ Morgan was trying but failing to shift her questioning in the direction it needed to go.

Dawn replied with a shake of the head. Her hair was tied high on her head, and she was wearing a mustard woollen jumper two sizes too big for her. ‘How come you’ve been let out then?’ She delivered a crooked smile. ‘I thought you were on bed rest. The wicked stepmother going soft, is she?’

‘She’s been OK, to be fair.’ Morgan sipped her milkshake. ‘Plus, she’s all excited because she thinks she’s solved the big mystery.’

She didn’t need to explain. There was only one mystery in Nighbrook worth talking about.

Dawn paused mid-slurp. ‘Oh yeah? How so?’

Morgan checked over her shoulder, her voice low. ‘She’s gone to talk to the woman she bought the house off. She’s staying at a bed and breakfast up the road.’

‘Mrs Doyle?’ Dawn sniffed. ‘She won’t get much out of her.’

Slowly, Joanne walked past, a tray in hand. The buttons on her cardigan were done up wrong, and she had a ladder in her tights. Morgan had never seen her look anything less than perfectly turned out before. Joanne had been so nice after they found her in the woods, but now she had turned cold. It seemed the stress of recent events was getting to everyone.

‘Naomi spoke to her on the phone,’ Morgan continued. ‘It seems Petunia is ready to tell all.’

The sudden tinkle of nearby spoons abruptly stopped. Low chatter was silenced. Joanne, who was hovering nearby, stood like a wind-up toy whose batteries had run out.

Returning her attention to Dawn, Morgan watched the colour visibly drain from her face.

Quickly scanning the room, Dawn leaned forward and touched Morgan’s arm. ‘You shouldn’t say stuff like that in here.’