Confused, Shannon half turned towards her classmates. They were lining the perimeter of the dance floor, watching them, an audience gathered for a public hanging. She glimpsed Brinley’s agonized expression, and a wide smile of triumph from Danielle.

The third indication was the lifting of the needle from the record, and the violence of the silence that followed.

She turned her head, almost in slow motion, in the direction of that absence of sound.

Her father was standing at the DJ stand, the picture of benignity.

A wave of light-headedness threatened to take her legs from under her. If Kit hadn’t been holding her, she might have collapsed to the floor. But he tightened his arm around her waist, keeping her upright.

In a failed attempt to gather herself, she hid her face in his chest, as if by looking away she could pretend Dr Carter was not there.

The awfulness of the situation made her nauseous. Not only had her father discovered her act of disobedience, he had marched across the village to find her. And now he was shaming her in front of everyone.

Her brain made connections at super-fast speed. Knowing him as she did, his need to maintain appearances would prevent him from making much more of a scene, but whatever happened here would pale in comparison to the punishment coming later, in the privacy of Hilltop House.

Her thoughts strayed to Sara, threaded by the bright heat of anger. Had her younger sister given her away? For God’s sake, she had told her what to say. They had even rehearsed it.

In her mind’s eye, she pictured Sara, lovingly eager and willing to please. Her sister was the most loyal person she knew. She would not have betrayed them – unless she was given no choice. Or perhaps her parents had worked it out by themselves. It was hardly rocket science.

The microphone crackled, a blur of feedback through the speakers.

Oh no.

‘Apologies for interrupting your fun,’ said Dr Carter, his voice tinny and amplified, filling every corner of the church hall. The DJ, no older than twenty, stood awkwardly behind him, no match for the force of the older man’s personality. ‘I’m looking for my daughter. Has anyone seen Shannon Carter?’

Shannon’s skin grew hot.

Why was he doing this so publicly? Had her father not recognized her, standing in the centre of the dance floor? Had he forgotten about her newly short hair? Perhaps he did not expect to see her in the arms of a boy. The thought of what he might do to Kit in a fit of temper dried her mouth.

She could not make her mind up. If she walked over to her father, she would have to deal with the stares and pointed fingers. If she ignored him, she would have to endure the excruciating prospect of him speaking into the microphone again.