Lorna

I’m standing on a swivel chair in Liberty’s bedroom, pulling climbing ropes from the top shelf of her wardrobe.

Darcy is toddling around the room, sticking more Post-it notes on things.

Guitar. Poster. Desk.

Being in my daughter’s room, with the Suzi Quatro and Jean Seberg posters on the wall, arthouse French movie DVDs lined up in alphabetical order on the wardrobe shelf, it’s tearing my heart out.

‘Lorna.’ Nick is in the doorway, his body covered in Darcy’s Post-it notes. ‘I’m still not getting this. You think Michael sent you this book.’ He holds The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen, frowning as he flips pages. ‘And it’s some kind of message?’

Abdomen. Forehead. Left buttock.

Dee is beside Nick, also covered in Post-it notes.

Neck. Shoulder. Stomach – big.

‘Of course it’s a message,’ I say. ‘There was a slip of paper in the book.’

‘Maybe it was your slip of paper,’ says Dee. ‘From years ago. You used to do that. Make bookmarks out of whatever was close to hand. Maybe Michael’s just returning your property to you. Sort of like saying, good riddance.’

‘No. The paper is too new. And there are highlights.’

‘You used to make highlights.’

‘The parts about sacrifice? Why would I highlight that?’

‘You were very dramatic as a teenager,’ said Dee. ‘You used to gravitate towards misery.’

‘Why can’t you two see it?’ The chair turns under me, nearly throwing me off. ‘Michael made those highlights. He wants me to go back. Diane is gone now. She’s taking a flight somewhere. Cat told me. Now she’s out the way, Michael wants me to take Liberty’s place. He thinks I’m still the same meek, mild idiot he knew all those years ago. That I’ll just walk in and do whatever he wants. The gates will be open now. He’ll be waiting for me.’

‘So why the climbing rope?’ says Dee, helping Darcy stick a Post-it note on her chest.

Left breast.

‘You never know with Michael,’ I say. ‘I want to be prepared. Everything’s always slippery. But one way or another, I’m going to end this today and bring Liberty home.’

‘Jesus, Lorna,’ says Nick. ‘This is all sounding a bit vigilante.’

I climb down from the chair with Liberty’s climbing rope and shoes. ‘Don’t you get it? Michael has made a trap. He’s a control freak. If I don’t do what he wants, he’ll hurt my daughter.’ I put a hand to my mouth, emotion suddenly overwhelming me. ‘And the police will do nothing. Liberty has run away from home.’

‘Has she?’ says Dee. ‘It seems to me she’s facing things. Maybe it’s you who’s running away, with all these high fences and gates. I mean, look at this place. It’s Fort Knox. This is running, Lorna. Liberty’s tackling everything head on. And she’ll be just fine.’

‘No. She won’t be.’

‘Liberty is clever,’ says Dee. ‘She can work out fact from fiction.’

‘She’s no match for him.’

‘Are you sure?’ says Dee. ‘Because the last time I checked, Liberty was a girl genius. All those sudoku and chess challenges she does on Facebook … she’s like lightning.’

‘I don’t know what she does on Facebook,’ I admit. ‘She blocked me.’

‘How come?’

‘I sent a few messages, you know. Telling some of her classmates that Liberty wasn’t allowed out in the evenings. Just in case they got the wrong idea.’

Dee raises an eyebrow. ‘All those human rights marches you used to go on. Now you’re a Nazi dictator.’

‘Can you blame me?’

‘Yes, I can blame you,’ says Dee. ‘I blame you for this whole thing. If you hadn’t kept Liberty locked up, she’d never have run away.’

‘But I’m her parent,’ I say. ‘It’s my job to keep her safe.’

‘Where’d you hear that?’ says Dee. ‘Some 1950s parenting manual? Liberty’s not a child. She’s a sixteen-year-old whose mother is stalking her Facebook profile and harassing her friends. She’s been locked behind these high gates most of her life and it still happened. The thing you were most afraid of. Maybe it’s not about keeping Liberty safe from her father. Maybe it’s about empowering her to look after herself.’

‘Liberty’s been away all night and now most of the day. The police will do nothing.’

‘What can they do?’ says Dee. ‘No crime has been committed.’

‘Are you seriously saying that to me?’ I demand. ‘You were there. You know what he did.’

‘I wasn’t there, Lorna,’ says Dee. ‘I know Michael was controlling and you were too vulnerable to stand up to him. That’s the only thing I know for sure.’

‘You don’t believe me about Annalise?’ I say. ‘Is that what you’re telling me?’

‘I believe … something really bad happened that night. And seeing Michael, yes, I know he has a temper. For sure.’

‘Okay.’ Nick takes a step back. ‘This is all sounding way too paranoid. Does anyone want a cup of tea? Or an omelette?’

‘No, Nick, no one wants an omelette. Michael sent me this book. You think he did that for no reason? He’s telling me to come back. To sacrifice myself for Liberty.’

‘You get that from a couple of highlights?’ says Dee. ‘Highlights you might have made yourself? What if you’re wrong? You’ll be committing a criminal offence, going back there.’

‘Dee’s right,’ says Nick. ‘If you go back to his house and start trying to climb over the gate or something, the police will arrest you. And then what? You’ll be stuck in a cell, maybe overnight. What use will you be to Liberty then? Sit tight. You have to wait. Maybe I should go there, Lorna. I’m sure if Michael understands how upset you are—’

‘That’s very sweet of you, Nick, but forget it,’ I say. ‘Michael will play you like a fiddle. You won’t stand a chance. You’d just come back telling me what a great guy he is.’

‘I’d never do that. I like my balls where they are.’

Dee snorts with amusement and I glare at both of them.

‘I’m going back there,’ I say. ‘Neither of you are getting it. The police won’t be there this time. Michael’s as good as told me to come back. I lived with him for a long time. I know how he works. If I don’t do what he wants …’ I close my eyes and take deep breaths. ‘Oh God, I hope Liberty is okay. Please let her be okay.’

‘She’ll be okay,’ says Dee. ‘She loves you and you love her. Just be patient. I know this is torture, but she has to come home sometime.’

I shake my head. ‘Michael’s not going to let her just leave. He has his prize. A way to hurt me. Do you think he’s going to let that prize walk out of the door?’

‘What are you saying?’

‘The only way Liberty is leaving is if I make out like I’ll trade places.’ I loop climbing rope over my shoulder, pushing past Nick and running down stairs two steps at a time.

‘This is idiotic,’ calls Dee over the banisters. ‘You’ll just get arrested. What exactly do you plan to do at Michael’s house anyway? Beat him up?’

‘Do exactly what Michael wants.’

Or at least pretend to.

Neither Nick nor Dee know about the samurai steel kitchen knife inside my jacket.