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‘You do?’
‘Uh-huh.’
Before he’s quite realized what he’s doing, Gabriel has moved closer to the couch. ‘What do I want?’
‘Your brother is missing,’ she says. ‘And you want to find him because you love him. But you think my stepdad was cross with him and did something bad.’
She reminds him, in that moment, of Teri Platini.
Sunday morning, as he’d questioned Teri, she’d acted increasingly childishly. He’d treated her more harshly as a result, because he’d known she was putting on an act to illicit sympathy.
Tilly Carver, by contrast, seems utterly genuine.
He perches on the edge of the couch. One of Tilly’s sandals has fallen off, revealing a delicately arched foot. There is, he thinks, something quite compelling about its shape. ‘How do you know that?’ he asks.
‘Because Max told me.’
‘Max?’
Tilly blinks, spills another tear, takes a shuddering breath. ‘My stepdad wouldn’t hurt anyone. I know he wouldn’t.’
She winces, rotating her bare foot at the ankle.
Gabriel watches, transfixed.
‘It’s cramped up,’ she says. ‘Is there any chance you could loosen the ties? Just a little? My wrists hurt, too.’
‘Maybe later,’ he murmurs. He can’t take his eyes off that foot, its lazy revolutions and the way the light winks off her nail polish. He feels his pulse rate climbing, his breathing beginning to quicken. ‘I could massage it for you.’
‘Would you?’
She has her mother’s eyes, he thinks. Her mother’s lips. But unlike Erin Carver, Tilly is unspoilt by age or motherhood. When he touches her foot, he feels a spark of electricity pass between them.
‘There’s something you don’t know,’ she says. ‘And I really think it would help you.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘It’s about Max, but I’m scared of saying. Because …’
‘Because what?’
‘Because he scares me.’
‘Your stepbrother scares you?’
She nods, her eyes huge.
‘Listen,’ he tells her. ‘You don’t need to be scared. But you do need to be honest.’
Her foot is warm in his hands. When she breathes, his gaze is drawn to her chest.
‘Once you know who hurt your brother,’ she says, ‘what’s going to happen to me?’
‘Do you think I’d hurt you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I wouldn’t.’