NINETEEN #2
“She just ran off. Maybe she went to the bathroom or something.” I added the second sentence as an aside, annoyed that I hadn’t thought about checking there first. That was where most girls went to lick their wounds.
“She was freaking out about the fire alarm and then just bailed. I’m worried she may have left the campus. ”
“I’m on it. Give me a minute and I’ll call you back,” she replied at lightspeed, also clearly worried.
It was clear that both my sister and I saw Amelie as family now, someone we had to protect.
My gut churned. If something happened to her…
the thought was too painful to even think about. And then it hit me.
You have it bad.
As I exited the school via the fire doors, I increased my pace and set off for my car; my gut at that point told me Amelie was no longer on site. Seeing my determined expression, students and staff moved out of my way. I had a free period, and so it wasn’t like anyone would stop me from leaving.
As I pressed the fob to unlock my car, my phone vibrated in my hand, and I answered.
“I know where she is. I’ve got her on Find my Phone.” Of course, why hadn’t I thought of that?
“OK? Where?”
“Later. Right now, tell me where you are?”
“Sixth form car park,” I huffed as I folded myself into my front seat, having not taken off my rucksack. I placed my phone on speaker and chucked it on the dash as I fumbled to take my bag off, whilst in what was now a tighter space than usual. I was six-two and didn’t fit in most cars comfortably.
“I’m in my car.”
“On my way,” Jessa panted, clearly running.
After freeing myself from a tangle of straps, I threw my bag onto the back seat and yanked on my seatbelt. As I turned the engine over, Jessa rocketed through the main school doors and ran towards me. I unlocked the passenger door and pushed it open to save time.
My sister was red-faced and looked worried. “So, where are we headed?” I barked as she climbed in, her face bright red.
“Where were you?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Not the time, Kier. You drive, and I’ll navigate. Amelie’s in Dunsfold, it’s the other side of Shere.”
“What the hell’s in Dunsfold?”
“Her house, well, at least her old house. The place she lived with her parents.”
“Why would she go there?”
“How the hell should I know. Familiarity perhaps?”
Revving the engine, I shoved the car into first gear, and the vehicle shot forward.
As I steered through the gates and out onto the street, a million thoughts plagued my mind, but I batted them back.
The answer as to why Amelie had gone there, of all places, when I suspected she’d been far from safe there in the past, could wait. Right then, we just needed to find her.
I drove like an absolute dick, but my entire body was stressed out, and those emotions were making me erratic. Jessa had to grab onto the handle on the car door a couple of times.
“Do you want me to drive?”
“You don’t have a license?”
“That’s never stopped me before,” she huffed, cutting me a look which said she thought I was a bad driver.
“Just relax. I’ve got this. Where now?”
“Second left,” she added, raising her phone to her face. I pretended not to see the red bruising on her neck. The thought of that being a hickey would only add to my torment.
Twenty minutes later, we rolled into Amelie Thorn’s old neighbourhood. The social services photo—showing her in grubby, oversized clothes and tatty shoes—had prepared us for squalor. Yet, the houses framing the street were surprisingly well-kept.
Then we turned the corner, and the Thorn property hit us like a physical blow.
Yellow police tape snaked across the iron gates, fluttering in the breeze.
This was where the hit-and-run car had been abandoned.
This was a live crime scene. Jessa and I exchanged a look, our chests tightening, but we didn't turn back.
We slipped past the barrier and forced our way inside.
Thankfully, there were no vans parked around, which could have contained members of the press.
As I pulled on the handbrake and scanned the building, I could see what looked like bars on two of the smaller windows. Ones that had been there for years from the look of them. That was the moment we realised the hit-and-run may not have been the only crime committed within those walls.
“Do it,” Jessa instructed from the front seat as we both stared at the large 50s-style bungalow through the windscreen.
My sister held her phone up and pointed to the flashing dot.
She had Find My Phone open, and I could see that she was right.
Amelie was in the house. With a nod, I removed my seatbelt, ordering her to stay in the car as I climbed out.
The front garden was overgrown, and the cherry blossoms which lined the property were still in bloom.
The contrast between the beauty of those trees and the weeds which littered their trunks was odd.
There were boxes and broken pallets stacked against the wall near the main window, and oil staining the tarmac.
I glanced towards the garage doors, wondering if that was the place where Jacob Thorn had attempted to hide his sins.
The curtains of the main windows were closed, and you couldn’t see into the property, so I walked towards the front entrance.
Pulling some tatty police tape down, I placed my hand on the stained-glass barrier before me and pushed.
The front door groaned open, unleashing a wall of stagnant air.
I peered inside, my eyes catching on several piles of junk which littered the hallway.
With an unsteady breath, I walked into the building.
Bile burned the back of my throat. The place was a tip.
I’d only made it a few steps across the tatty flooring, and the stench of damp clung to my skin.
I felt more acid rise in my throat as I took in my filthy surroundings.
There were some cleaner empty spaces where the police must have dragged away evidence.
But that bleakness remained with black bin bags precariously piled to the ceiling.
Something inside one of them shifted. I didn't look. I couldn't. I carried on walking.
So, this had been Amelie’s home. Not even an animal should live like that.
The lump in my throat as I made my way further into that nightmare wouldn’t budge, no matter how many times I swallowed.
But I knew I had to be strong for my girl.
She was in there somewhere, and she was hurting.
She must have gone back there. I imagined she had needed familiarity rather than safety, as there was nothing safe about the space surrounding me.
Everywhere you looked, there was filth and clutter, dust particles surrounded me as I attempted to steady my breathing. The curtains were tatty and extremely dated, which suggested they had probably never been changed.
Externally, apart from those rusted bars, you would never have guessed the horrors inside.
As I moved through the living room and past more police tape and evidence cones with various numbers printed on, I heard her. Amelie was breathing heavily. She wasn’t crying, but I powered forward, desperate to reach her and hold her close.
“Amelie?” I called out softly, not wanting to spook her.
“In here,” she replied, and relief pooled in my gut. Taking a few more steps, I rounded a corner, and there she was.
Walking through the doorway into a bedroom, I scanned the area first, checking for danger.
I didn’t know why; it was just a natural reaction.
Amelie was sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, and her knees were pulled up against her chest. Her face was puffy, and her eyes were red.
She peered up at me through a curtain of pale hair, and I shifted.
“Are you OK?” I said, lowering myself onto my haunches and smoothing her hair back from her face.
“I think so.” Her voice was slight and uncertain, and the need to protect powered through me. “Did you tell him? Aaron. About my father, I mean.”
“Hell no, how could you think that?” I already had Tanner and Weston looking into that.
“Here, can you stand up for me?” Holding out my hand, she nodded and placed her fingers in mine, and I drew us both to our feet. I didn’t like to see her sitting on the floor, especially not one as grim as that.
I took her into my arms and gave her a reassuring hug before drawing back. “So, I take it this was your room?”
Amelie looked away and motioned around the room with one trembling hand. “Yes. Are you disgusted?”
“Yes. But not for the reasons you think,” I explained, pulling her back into my arms and cradling her head against my chest. I felt her breathe in my scent and hoped she felt safe with me.
I gave her a moment to compose herself before allowing her to pull away. Our eyes connected.
“Tell me what you need,” I said, my voice betraying how weak and useless I felt.
I hadn’t experienced anything like that before.
I’d been a privileged cunt and didn’t realise that people could live in such poor, deprived conditions.
I wondered if Vanessa had any clue as to how her nephew and nieces had been living before the police got involved.
Amelie took a step back and motioned towards the bunk beds. “For it all to be over?”
“Then let’s make that happen.” My entire body felt stiff, but I wanted Amelie to be comfortable, and so I lowered myself onto the edge of an old dressing table.
It was littered with children’s toys, all of them worn or broken.
I glanced around. The place was a dump, but it wasn’t necessarily unsafe, and I decided we needed to have it out.
I wanted Amelie to tell me everything. That constant urge to pulverise both her parents jumped up a notch when I saw chains at the bottom of the bed.
“Please tell me they’re part of a game you played with your sister?” I questioned a little too harshly.