His arms seem to have me trapped in a permanent hug since the split second that, changed hair or no, he realised it was me. ‘Why didn’t you tell me she was alive?’ he demands of his cousin Mac.I squirm. ‘Let me go already!’‘You’re really okay?’‘All in one piece,’ I say, not being able to think of how I am as okay, exactly, after everything that’s happened.He loosens his arms but keeps me in front of him with a hand on each shoulder. ‘Amy has been so…Can I tell her?’‘Need-to-know,’ Aiden interjects.Jazz glares at him. ‘Yeah, well, whatever: Amy needs to know.’‘Why not?’ I say. ‘It’ll be out soon enough. What’ll it hurt if he tells her now? She won’t say anything.’ Not after the last time. Amy had, in all innocence, told about drawings I was doing for the AGT, and a snatch-and-grab in a black van and Lorder questioning and blackmail followed.‘And your mum?’ Jazz asks.‘She already knows.’‘No way. She never let on.’‘Need-to-know,’ we say in unison, and I find myself laughing along with Jazz, some part of me surprised that I still know how.‘It’s good to see you,’ I say.
