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Maggie stared at him. ‘How do you know what my brother’s doing? Or my mum?’

‘I see them from time to time.’ He smiled, although his eyes were hard. ‘We’re friends.’

It took her a while – she wasn’t sure how long – to respond. ‘Friends. You’re friends?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We have been for a while. Ever since you disappeared. I tutored James in maths.’ He pointed above his head. ‘Up there. He did well. Went to Warwick University.’

This, she realized, was punishment. She’d hurt him and he wanted his retaliation.

‘You’re lying. You’re only saying this to hurt me.’

‘Why would I lie?’

‘Because you didn’t like what I said to you. So now you’re making this up to hurt me.’

‘OK. Then I’m lying. But if I am, you won’t want to ask me how they are, will you?’

She tried not to, but it was too hard. Eventually, she spoke.

‘What did you mean, he’s wasting his life? What’s James doing?’

‘He’s made some bad choices. Very bad choices. I think it upsets your parents to see what he’s made of his life. But then he was hit hard when you left, and they know that. What else could they expect?’

‘You fucking bastard,’ she said. ‘You did this to me, my parents, my brother, and then you stand there and tell me James made bad choices when it’s all your fault.’

The man raised his hand again.

‘Don’t speak to me like that, you foolish little bitch,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back for the tray later.’

4

Her family was out there. Close. If he knew them, they must be close.

Her mum. Her dad. James.

They were out there, her disappearance ruining their lives. She had to see them. She had to get out of here. There was a way, there had to be. She couldn’t let him win. She felt a fierce, hard determination. She looked around the room. The bathtub. The bucket. The mattress. Max’s Duplo. Their clothes. Her needle and thread. The bleach in the tinfoil.

Nothing she could use.

Could she get Max out? Throw him up the stairs when the man came, pull the man into the room? But where would Max go? What if there was a locked door at the top, the door that made the scraping sound?

He’d be trapped, and the man would still take him. It had to be something else. She visualized what would happen on his birthday.

The man would come in. He would look around the room. He would point at Max.

Give him to me.

She would say no and try to fight and lose.

And Max would be gone.

It was pointless. She couldn’t protect him. She imagined how wonderful it would be if she woke up tomorrow and Max was gone, magically rescued. The man would come in and look around and frown.

Where is he?

I don’t know. I don’t know where he is, but he’s gone. He’s free.

But that was impossible. There would be no magical rescue. The best she could do was hide him for a few minutes. She could put him in the bathtub, like the day before when, for a second, she had not known where he was. That was her only option, but the man would find him immediately.