SEVENTY | FARYSAIG

I wanted to run to Cyrus, to confront him, eyes blazing and mouth shouting and fists pounding. Instead, I slowly unclenched my hands and smoothed out the fresh page of my notebook, focusing on the texture of the paper beneath the pads of my fingertips.

After meeting Veronica last night, I’d woken my Dads – both of whom had fallen asleep on the sofa waiting for me to return – and told them everything I knew. Eager as we’d been to storm over to Seagull Road and take The Heath by storm, we’d learnt one major piece of information through Veronica’s misfortune: we didn’t know as much as we thought we did. As such, the three of us had taken the day off work once the morning had rolled around, and our plan was to spend the day researching.

I’d felt awful calling in sick, but I’d decided that it was a necessary evil. If making Mae jiggle the rota around saved her life, then it was worth it. It wa