Page 70 of Good Bad Girl

She’s here.

My fear turns into joy and everything changes in a heartbeat. I’m going to be okay. Mum will take me home and I will be safe and this will be over. I’m walking, then I’m running toward the van. More than anything I just want to see her face again. We haven’t spoken for almost a year, not since she confessed that she wasn’t my real mum. But none of that matters now. She is the only person in the world who I trust. AndMumis the only name I will call her, because that’s who and what she is, regardless of whether she gave birth to me.

I see her silhouette in the driver’s seat and am overcome with love and happiness.

I knock on the window and am filled with confusion.

Because it isn’t my mum, it’s Edith’s daughter. The woman who begged me to trust her then let the police arrest me. I take two steps back, almost tripping over my own feet.

“Wait,” she says, opening the van door and rushing toward me. “We need to talk.”

“I havenothingto say to you.”

“I have everything to say to you. But first, I just want to say that I’m sorry.”

“What for?” I ask.

“All of it.”

Frankie

Frankie is out of the library, down the stairs, and across the courtyard in less than a minute. Once inside the main building she heads straight for the security office.

“Did an inmate just leave?” she asks, still a little out of breath.

“They did indeed. Checked in yesterday, checked out today,” replies an elderly officer called Robjant. He has long white hair, Harry Potter glasses, and a habit of repeating himself. “Cops dropped the charges,” the old man adds.

“Shit,” Frankie says.

“Everything okay? They might not have gone through the main gate yet?” He reaches for the phone on his desk. “I can call the hut, get them to hold on to her—”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll try to catch up,” Frankie replies, already heading in that direction.

“Did someone forget to return a library book?” Robjant shouts.

She turns back, forces her face to smile. “Yes, that’s right. They’re all thieves in here, even the bookish ones.”

The thirty-two steps to the outside gate seem to take longer than ever before. Frankie walks at a normal pace, resisting the urge to run, desperate to avoid doing anything that might look suspicious. When the outside gate is within touching distance she can hear her heartbeat thudding in her ears. She tries to hide her impatience while waiting for the guard on duty to open the gate. When he finally lets her through she looks around, expecting to see her daughter for the first time in almost a year. Longing to hold her in her arms and never let her go.

But Frankie doesn’t see her daughter.

The car park is empty.

And her camper van is gone.

Clio

Clio has never driven a van before. She doesn’t even own a car, and hasn’t driven anything that wasn’t automatic for years. She grinds the gearbox more than once.

“Why do you have my mother’s van?” the girl sitting next to her asks again. “You said you’d explain on the way.”

“I told you already, your mum asked me to take you home,” Clio lies.

“But how do you know my mum and why didn’t she pick me up herself?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Which part?”

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