Pretty Little Things: 2018’s most nail-biting serial killer thriller with an unbelievable twist

I go into the bathroom and stare at my reflection. I hear Elle answer the door and, when the sound of Savannah’s voice fills the air, I’m conscious of the tears that prick in my eyes.

I stare into the mirror above the basin. I stare at my face, at the constant physical reminder of what happened.

I close my eyes, and I can almost feel the moment when I was slung forward in my car that day. I wince now, as if I can still feel that white-hot pain tearing through my skin. I blink back tears and gently try to blend my foundation in a bit better than when I rushed to put it on earlier.

It needs to be perfect before I go downstairs and see Savannah. It needs to be perfect for work later.

I hear the hum of voices from downstairs. Savannah and Elle. This is the most I’ve heard my daughter speak all morning.

I head downstairs.

‘Morning.’ Savannah’s eyes look sad despite the fact that she’s smiling.

She’s putting on a brave face in front of Elle. Savannah’s heard about Ruth’s daughter.

She leans in for a fleeting hug and I can smell the shampoo she’s used on her white-blonde hair this morning.

She smooths out her uniform after she’s released me.

‘You’ve heard then?’ I say.

She looks at me, gives a wan smile. ‘Yeah.’

‘I can’t imagine what Ruth’s going through right now.’

Savannah drops her handbag on the kitchen countertop. ‘She’s doing better than you might expect.’

I’m confused. ‘How…You’ve spoken to her?’

‘Called her as soon as I found out. Least I could do. Feels too little, to be honest, but she was . . . OK.’ She waves her hand at her choice of words. ‘Well, not OK, but you know . . . better than I thought she’d be.’

Inwardly, I chastise Iain. I knew I should have called as soon as we heard the news. Whatever must Ruth think of me, not being there right away at a time like this?

‘It’s not like this wasn’t at the back of her mind,’ Savannah continues. ‘I think it’s come as more of a shock for Mike. Ruth seemed to have come to terms with the fact that, as they hadn’t found Caroline within the first few days after she went missing, well . . .’ She looks pained. She swallows it down, looks to me and pulls a faint smile.

‘Are you going over to see her?’

‘I offered but . . . they need some space right now. They have officers helping them. It’s going to be hard in work today. For all of us.’

A sense of guilt hits me, and I wish I weren’t so helpless. I wish I could be there too. So much has changed in the last six months.

I see Savannah survey me and just want to change the subject.

‘I wasn’t expecting you,’ I say and pull my cardigan tighter around me. I glance at the kitchen clock on the wall behind her. ‘Are you on a different shift?’

Savannah’s hazel-coloured eyes narrow and she frowns. ‘Didn’t you get my text last night?’

I shake my head.

‘Here,’ she says, her demeanour more jovial. Eager to move the conversation on as much as I am, I suppose.

She whips out her phone, unlocks the screen. ‘See, I sent it about eight last night, saying I’d drop some bits off for the charity fete before my shift.’ She glances at her watch. ‘Although, I’m late.’

I see some bags beside Elle on the floor. I don’t remember reading this text, but then again, it’s not the first time I’ve forgotten things lately.

‘I remember now,’ I say.

Elle stares at me and then rolls her eyes.

‘Don’t you have coursework?’ I say.

Savannah gives Elle a wink as she huffs out of the room, then she smiles at me, but she must see the doubt in my eyes as I stare at the bags on the floor.

‘Oh, Ruth has said she wants us to go ahead with this.’

I look at her as she gestures to the bags. She looks so sure, but I’m not.

When Caroline first went missing, there was very little press coverage. But when two more girls vanished in as many weeks, everyone started pulling together.

When a fourth disappeared, too, we knew we had to do this event to raise money for the families so they could use the extra resources to help bring the girls home. I’d set up a funding page with Savannah and we decided to organise a charity street fete, to be held on the green opposite our house in the cul-de-sac.

Some people thought the police hadn’t been doing enough to find the girls.

But this was different.

They were missing then, and hope remained, slim though it was.

But now they’re no longer missing.

‘Ruth’s OK with it?’ I say. Savannah nods. ‘Really? I mean, that’s great but I worry it might look . . . insensitive.’

‘Hardly. This is what we do as a community. We band together and Ruth said we have her blessing. It can be like a celebration of their lives.’

‘I don’t know.’ I shake my head as my eyes sweep over the bags again. ‘It’s different now.’

Savannah comes closer to me, puts her hands on both my shoulders. ‘Look, if the other families don’t want this, we can do something just for Ruth and Mike.’

I’m not convinced. ‘I should call Ruth.’

‘Leave it with me,’ she says. ‘You’ve got enough to be getting on with.’

A look of confusion passes over my face.

‘For Elle’s party?’ she says, as if that’s something I shouldn’t forget.

I hadn’t forgotten but I’ve been in two minds about whether to cancel it, or at least scale it down. Now this has happened, those teens found, somehow it doesn’t feel right to be throwing a party for my daughter, when these mothers will no longer be able to do the same for their girls.

Savannah sees the look on my face. ‘Want to talk about it?’