Page 45 of Dying Truth

‘One game of darts and I might tell you,’ she said.

Kim laughed at the comment which was both opportunistic and distracting.

‘Ah, here’s one she wrote just last week,’ she said taking a sheet from the box and placing it before Kim. ‘Not the one I’m after but this’ll give you some idea of her talent.’

The poem filled the whole page but with only one word on each line.

Kim read it twice and shook her head.

‘I don’t get it,’ she said, honestly.

‘The theme was isolation,’ Joanna said. ‘Now take another look.’

Kim read it again. ‘Okay, so every word is linked to loneliness, which could have been done from any thesaurus.’

Joanna rolled her eyes despairingly. ‘Look beyond the words, Inspector. See the whole thing.’

Kim looked again and ignored the words.

‘Single words on a line, surrounded by space. Other words are around but not close by,’ Kim said.

‘Exactly,’ Joanna replied. ‘She captured the theme in much more than the words. She made the actual page stark to paint the picture of loneliness. Not bad for a thirteen-year-old girl, eh?’

Kim nodded her agreement as Joanna frowned.

‘Ah, I remember now, I gave that other poem to her counsellor. I’ll get it back so you can take a look.’

Kim took Sadie’s letter from her pocket.

‘What do you think of this?’ Kim asked. ‘Knowing her writings as you did.’

Kim knew Sadie had not committed suicide, so why was there a suicide note?

Joanna read the letter, paused and then read it again. She nodded, despite the frown that touched her features.

‘Definitely something Sadie would have written.’

‘But?’

‘I don’t know. There’s something not quite right about that letter.’ She looked at Kim. ‘But I honestly don’t know what.’

Kim had felt the same way when she’d read it at the Winters’ home and when she’d read it again in the car.

Joanna continued to study it as Bryant appeared bearing two mugs of coffee.

Joanna’s frown deepened, as she placed her hand across the top of the page, covering the words ‘Dear Mummy and Daddy’ that Kim had found jarring.

‘Read it now,’ Joanna suggested.

Kim read the words aloud.

‘“I can’t find the words to explain how I feel. Every day my mind is like a tropical jungle overgrown with foliage, dense plantation. A mist rises every now and again and blocks out the sunlight. I try to wade through it. I try to reach you, but the jungle gets in my way.

‘“I try so hard to meet expectation, but I drop through the cracks of reality because I also want to be me. I don’t know who that is yet. I don’t know how much longer I can stay in this foggy existence waiting to see what I become. It’s too hard. I can’t bear it any more. I have to make it stop.”’

‘See what I mean?’ Joanna asked.

Kim nodded her understanding.