Page 162 of The Killer’s Mark

Esmerée’s eyes brimmed with tears. She wiped them with her sleeve, teenage style. Her head dropped. ‘Way to rub it in, Doc.’

‘But we have.’

She looked up. ‘You have what?’

‘Registered your birth.’

She shrugged. ‘Big deal. I could have found someone to do that.’

‘Can you show Esmerée what you’ve been doing, Tilly?’

‘Certainly, Estelle.’ Bradshaw patted the seat beside her. ‘Please sit here, Esmerée.’

Esmerée threw Poe and Estelle a confused look. ‘The fuck you guys been up to?’ She took the seat beside Bradshaw. Stared at the screen.

‘I … I don’t understand.’

‘We thought about adopting you, Esmerée,’ Estelle said. ‘If that was what you wanted, obviously.’

‘But?’

‘But does that seem like the half-arsed kind of thing Poe and I would do?’

‘You guys don’t do anything half-assed.’

‘But you did need a name. An identity. So Tilly has given you one.’

‘She’s registered me as a real person?’

‘You aren’t Pinocchio, mate,’ Poe said. ‘You might not officially exist, but unofficially you exist more than anyone I know.’

‘You bet your ass I exist.’

‘Tilly has registered your birth. Backdated to the best guess. You’re sixteen in December, by the way.’

‘Well, thanks, I guess. It’s a start. Something to build on.’

‘I haven’t just registered your birth, silly,’ Bradshaw said. ‘I’ve given you a complete life. You have medical records. School reports. A National Insurance number. An NHS number. You have everything you need to prove you are who you claim to be. You even have exam results.’

‘Congratulations, by the way,’ Poe said. ‘I gather you did very well in your mocks.’

Esmerée looked at him, nonplussed. ‘Huh?’

‘You excel at science, apparently.’

‘Huh?’

‘But maybe downgrade her English language results, Tilly. It appears Esmerée has forgotten how to talk.’

‘Can I see my birth certificate, please?’

Bradshaw found it on her laptop. She moved away from the screen so Esmerée could read it. Esmerée’s eyes filled with tears again. She blinked them away. Leaned in and reread the screen. ‘But this says …’

Estelle said, ‘It does.’

‘But … why?’

‘You needed a name, and we had one going spare.’