The door finally opens and my hands go slick with sweat. But then I see who’s coming out and I feel like I’ve been punched in the head again. It’s Evelyn in her blazer and her school dress, with her socks pulled up to her knees and her shoes all polished and shiny, and she’s been crying. She doesn’t see me at first and I don’t see her dad, Mr Swann, holding her wrist straight away either. I don’t know what’s going on. I need to speak to her. I need to know why she was in there and why she was crying, and there’s this irrational anger that grows from the idea that someone has upset her so much.
Our eyes meet and hers are blurred and red and she looks away from me before I can work out how to initiate our telepathic connection. In my panic I look at Mr Swann, and the way his face is chisell
