“No.” Alex shook his head, his face contorting with agonized concentration as he recalled every detail of the last time he had seen his daughter. “At least, I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?” the policeman pushed, and Emma could have slapped him for his insensitivity. But Alex was calmer, explaining Alex’s problem in a
measured voice, but his voice was loaded with pain.
“My daughter has problems—behavioural problems.” Katrina opened her mouth to argue, but Alex stood firm, shaking his head at Katrina, clearly indicating that now wasn’t the time for futile denial. “She doesn’t react in the
usual way—you never really know what she’s thinking. Look, you have to tell your colleagues that they could be just a metre away from her, could be calling
her name, and she won’t answer them, she won’t call out...” His voice broke for about asecond and Emma watched as he attempted to recover, his eyes closing for an agonising second as he forced himself to continue. “You have to tell them that
