It was like the last eleven years had never happened. When he’d first heard the news about her death he’d felt something. Not sadness. Pity, maybe. Disappointment someone else had got to her before he had. And then DS Freeman had shown him the picture of the trackie top and he knew. Knew it wasn’t her who’d been buried in the woods after all. Thing was, he knew who it really was, only he couldn’t work out how she’d got there. He watched Emma. She was shaking. Maybe she thought she’d got away with it. That she’d never see him again. He wondered if she’d just stand there all night, staring. And then she answered his question by bolting. He took the stairs three at a time and grabbed hold of her arm before she’d even got the door open. She tried to pull away, screaming and clawing at him. She’d grown a spine since the last time he’d seen her. Lucas flinched as her nails scraped the side of his face and he shoved her into the door. Her head smacked into it hard and she finally stopped screaming.
