Lena turns, looking pale and shaken. “The police are here,” she whispers. “They wanted to speak to Jack and Sean.”

I go over—I can hear muffled voices but can’t make out what they’re saying.

“Have you heard anything?”

Lena takes my arm and leads me away from the kitchen door. “Not really. Jack raised his voice, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying properly. It’s got to be about the body they found, though, right?”

She paces the hall, all nervous energy, but I just feel cold. Have they found out who it is?

Jack comes storming out of the kitchen, shoving past me and Lena, almost sending me sprawling, but Lena still has hold of my arm and she steadies me. Jack goes outside, slamming the front door behind him. I hear his car start, hear gravel flying as he drives away.

Two men follow Jack out of the kitchen. The one in front wears a suit. I get a sickening lurch of recognition as I look at his tired face and balding head.

“Tess.” He nods at me, doesn’t smile.

It’s the detective who came to see me in the hospital after Bella’s death.

He doesn’t say anything else, just walks out with his colleague.

Lena and I both turn back to look into the kitchen. The door is open now and Sean is sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.

“It’s Dad,” he says, when he looks up and sees us there.

“Greg?” I say, looking around stupidly, like I’m expecting him to pop out from behind the door. “He’s back?”

He shakes his head. “No…the body. The bones. It’s Dad. He’s dead.”

Max breezes in as Lena and I stare at Sean in shock. He looks happy—he’s whistling as he walks through the front door. His hair is damp and he smells of shower gel. Where has he been?

“What’s up?” he says. “Jack just almost ran me over out there.”

Sean gets up and walks past us without a word, going upstairs.

“The body they found,” I say through numb lips. “It’s Greg.”

“What? How can they know?” Max says, dragging his hands through his hair. “It’s only been a couple of weeks—they found bones, not a body. How can they possibly know?”

“A DNA match,” Dad says, coming downstairs. He looks ill. “They wanted to speak to Julia, but she can’t…she’s in no state to deal with this.”

I sink down onto a chair on shaking legs.

I don’t understand what this means. I was so sure it was going to turn out to be another teenage girl. Another lost victim of the summer of death.