Glass and ash covered the sitting room floor. She limped into the kitchen. More broken glass. She turned to hobble up the stairs.
“Mum! Julia!”
Emmy threw open Mum’s bedroom door. Debris littered her bed. The blackout curtains from her window overlooking the street hung in tattered threads.
She limped into Julia’s room, where she met the same scene.
They weren’t there.
Emmy’s head throbbed. She made her way back downstairs and pulled out a kitchen chair. She sank into it to wait for them to return from the shelter. She had eaten nothing in nearly twenty-four hours and she marveled that her stomach could growl for food after what she had seen that morning. But she was too tired to see whether there was anything edible left. There was no electricity. Whatever was still in the fridge was probably spoiled. She leaned forward to rest her head on the table.
Emmy startled awake when she heard a voice outside on the front step.
“Bloody mess this is.”
Mum.
Thank God.
Emmy shot up out of the chair and had to steady herself when her injuries protested.
“Mum!” she called out.
Emmy stumbled into the front room as Mum stepped inside the flat.
She staggered toward her mother and wrapped her arms around Mum’s neck. Tears that she’d kept at bay since the sirens first sounded yesterday fell freely.
“Good Lord, Emmy!” Mum’s hand stroked Emmy’s hair. She couldn’t remember the last time Mum had done that.
“Oh, Mum. I was so worried.”
“What in the world? What happened to you? Why are you here?”
Mum did not sound angry. She sounded surprised. Completely surprised. Emmy pulled back from her to study her mother’s face.
“Didn’t—didn’t you see my note? Didn’t Julia tell you?”
“What note? Didn’t Julia tell me what? What are you talking about? Why are you here?”
“Mum. Didn’t you come home yesterday? You got off at four o’clock.”
“How did you . . . Why aren’t you in Gloucestershire? Why are you here?” Mum’s voice rose in pitch as she slowly realized that something was terribly wrong.
“Tell me you came home when you got off work. Tell me you have Julia,” Emmy murmured, new tears already falling.
Mum went white. “Julia is with you. In Gloucestershire.”
Nausea rose up inside Emmy. “Where did you go?” she whispered.
“Em. Where is your sister?” Mum’s voice trembled. “Where is she?”
“Why didn’t you come home?” Emmy cried. “You were supposed to come home!”
Mum placed her hands on Emmy’s shoulders. Her nails dug into Emmy’s skin. “Where is your sister?”
Thea.
Emmy freed herself from Mum’s grasp and limped past her. She staggered across the rubble in between the two flats and swung open Thea’s damaged front door. The destruction to Thea’s flat was worse than theirs. In addition to broken glass and missing roof sections, the far wall was cracked and bulging inward. But the most disturbing detail was that her furniture was covered in white sheeting; the look of a place that had been sealed up and emptied of its people.
“Julia!” Emmy called. “Julia!”
Mum was now standing at Thea’s doorstep. “What is going on? What did you do?”
Emmy wheeled around to face her mother. “Where’s Thea?”
“What did you do?” Mum yelled.
“You were supposed to come home!” Emmy yelled back.
“What have you done with my baby?” Mum screamed.
“Are you two all right?”
The two women turned to the voice. A man stood on the sidewalk. Emmy recognized him as the pensioner who lived three doors down. He was staring at them, wide-eyed.
Emmy shuffled over to him. “Did you see Julia? My sister. Did you see her here last night?”
The man stared at her. “I thought all the children on this street had been evacuated.”
“Did you see her?” Emmy shouted.
“No. No, I didn’t.”
Mum was at Emmy’s side. “Emmy. I need to know what happened!”
Emmy ignored her. “Did you see Thea? The lady who lives here? Did you see her?”
The man blinked. “She and her mum left for Wales. A few days ago, I think.”
“Did you go to the shelter last night? Did you see a little girl? She’s only seven.” Sobs garbled Emmy’s words.
The man shook his head. “There were no children in the shelter last night other than a new mother with an infant who came in off the street.”
Emmy pushed past him, calling Julia’s name.
“Should I get a policeman?” the man yelled.
But Emmy could not answer him. She could only shout one word.
“Julia!”
Mum trailed after her, repeating a four-word phrase; four words that fell at Emmy’s back like a mallet.
What have you done?