‘Never mind the room,’ Morgan squeaked with excitement. ‘I need to sort my face out!’

Within thirty minutes, Dawn was sitting on Morgan’s newly made bed. But things were different to before. Stilted. Awkward. Dawn stuffed her hands in the pockets of her hoodie as they exhausted their small talk.

‘Is Naomi happy she’s solved the mystery?’

‘I guess.’ Morgan twiddled with her hair. ‘She’s pretty shaken. We all are.’

‘You’ll get over it soon enough.’

Morgan shifted position, unease creeping in. ‘What really happened to the Harpers? I know we’re not supposed to talk about it, but I can’t sleep at night. It keeps going round and round in my head. Lloyd . . . he went ape-shit when I called him a paedophile.’

‘Maybe you hit a nerve.’ Dawn seemed unable to meet her eye.

‘What’s wrong?’ Morgan said, resting her hand on Dawn’s. She had missed her so much that it hurt.

‘Don’t.’ Snatching her hand away, Dawn walked to the window sill. ‘This is all my fault.’ Her face was devoid of make-up, her long hair scissored into a choppy cut. Her natural blonde hair colouring was coming through her roots.

‘How is it your fault?’ Morgan stood, watching her trace her finger over the wooden window frame. ‘You weren’t even there.’

‘I’ve not been honest with you.’ Dawn’s words carried on a long sigh. ‘Or the police.’

‘Then you should tell the police everything you know,’ Morgan said.

Dawn exhaled a bitter laugh. ‘Because it’s that easy. Would you dob in your dad?’

‘I guess not,’ Morgan said, knowing she would do anything to protect him. But her dad was not covering up a murder. Questions crowded her mind. This could be her last opportunity to speak to Dawn alone. ‘That night, when we did the Ouija board. Did you know the Harpers were buried there?’

‘Yeah. Everyone does.’ Dawn’s lips curled in a sad smile. ‘I wanted to tell you my secret, but I didn’t know if I could trust you. It’s not easy, knowing what I know.’ She looked out through the window, her gaze far away.

‘Do you think she’s at peace now?’ Morgan said, thinking of the little girl who had slept in Ivy Cottage before her.

Dawn shrugged. ‘What’s it matter?’

‘It matters quite a lot.’

A voice came from the doorway, making Morgan start.

It was Naomi, watching them both. Morgan looked to the woman she had come to trust. She would never forget how she had defended her. ‘Take me,’ she’d pleaded with Lloyd, as he’d pointed the barrel of the gun. ‘Just let her go.’ At last, Morgan had understood that her stepmother had her back. It was why Naomi was standing there, looking at Dawn with suspicion in her eyes.