Page 139 of Stolen Ones

It had all come to her outside. Alison’s observation that Harte was lying about the murders. His cryptic clues that he would lead them to Melody, but never once had he stated she was dead. They had assumed that from day one. The bunk bed in the room instead of the bigger bed described by Suzie and Libby indicated that, at times, there had been more than one girl in the room. Swift’s reaction when he had talked about the other girls. She hadn’t been annoyed that he was going against her advice. She had been upset at the very mention of their names. When Kim had shown them the old photo of Lexi, Swift had been horrified. Not because of the fate of the little girl, but because it was a reminder of having to share Harte. Her rage when Harte had declared that he’d loved Lexi was not because he was going against her instruction, but because she was jealous of his feelings for her first victim. And finally, her sharp exit from the station at the mention of Grace’s name. That’s when she’d learned there was another one, and she’d known exactly where to come.

‘What was different about you, Kate? Why didn’t Harte let you go like the others?’

‘I didn’t want to leave,’ she said, turning around.

‘What?’

‘Oh, wake up, Stone. Have you met my family?’

‘I have but still…’

‘But still what?’ she asked, sliding down the door and landing on the floor. ‘Look around you. My own bedroom, television, bathroom, new clothes, occasional toys, games. No fear. Why would I want to leave?’

‘You didn’t miss anybody?’ Kim asked, trying to understand.

‘Stone, I don’t know what your childhood was like. You probably come from two loving, well-adjusted parents who prioritised you and made you feel loved, cared for, treasured.’

‘Not quite.’

‘Well then perhaps you’ll understand that it’s hard to miss people to whom you meant nothing. How do you miss people who feel like strangers? I was the youngest, the runt, the invisible, the forgotten. I detest them and I don’t feel bad. They’ve made enough money over the years.’

Kim heard the bitterness in her voice, and she could understand why. ‘You said you’d escaped the fear – of what?’

Swift tipped her head and raised an eyebrow.

‘Your brother?’

She nodded. ‘Most nights.’

‘You couldn’t tell your mum?’

‘I did. She told me he’d soon get bored if I just lay there and took it.’

Kim felt the nausea rise in her throat.

‘So I wake up here,’ she said, sweeping one arm around the space. ‘Everything I ever needed or could have dreamed of. It was all mine. And no one wanted anything in return.’

‘You were being watched the whole time,’ Kim said, nodding towards the camera.

Swift shrugged. ‘Didn’t care. I wasn’t being touched, mauled, raped. I was away from all that. I was safe and protected.’

‘What happened?’

‘One day, after about a year or so, the door opened. I was confused. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I waited but no one came. I didn’t want to leave.’

‘So?’

‘I closed the door and carried on as normal.’

Kim couldn’t help but wonder what Steven Harte had made of that. ‘And then what happened?’

Kim had a pretty good idea but she wanted Swift to walk her through it.

‘Some months later, I woke up to find myself in a smaller bed, up high with another bed below.’

‘Did you understand what that meant?’

‘I think I did and I didn’t. I guessed that another girl was coming, and I didn’t mind until Lexi actually arrived. Jesus, she did nothing but moan and cry.’