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heard.”
    “Oh, sorry, did we wake you?”
    “No, I was up anyway, you know, trying to sort this out.” I pointed to my hair.
    “I’ve got just the thing,” she said, giving a sympathetic smile.
    She dashed into her room and by the time I’d used the bathroom she was back in the kitchen holding out a small, purple beret. “This will go with your style and if you sit it like this,” she rested it on my head at a jaunty angle, “no one will be any the wiser.”
    I studied my reflection in a windowpane, my face crisscrossed by the strips of lead. The hat was cute and it was kind of my style. “Er, thanks, that’s great. Do you mind if I borrow it then?”
    “Go ahead, your needs are greater than mine.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh shit, is that the time? I have to dash. Catch you later. I have to hand in that nutrition assignment by eight or Professor Darlington will have a stroke.”
    I flicked on the kettle. “Good luck.”
    “Yeah, I need it.” She scooped up a large bag bulging with folders, grabbed her toast and dashed off. The door at the end of the corridor slammed.
    * * * * *
     
    The first lecture of the morning was a discussion on criminal liability and within five minutes I knew it would give me brain ache. The lecturer’s voice didn’t help. She had a whiny, high-pitched squeaking tone and adjusted the round glasses on the bridge of her nose every thirty seconds.
    Yawning, I copied down the details of actus reus . My focus was blurred and even my writing looked tired.
    The professor started to drone on about “beyond reasonable doubt” and I fingered my beret, hoping it was still in position. It was. I glanced around the lecture theater. There must have been over sixty students all sitting at the tiered benches, but I didn’t know any of them. The girls on my corridor were doing different courses than me.
    Everyone around me had their heads down and their pens scratching furiously across paper. The air of concentration was palpable. The silent, studied focus that I normally found soothing was oppressive today.
    Perhaps I would just Google “reasonable doubt” later. That way I could drop my head in my hands and get a bit of sneaky shuteye. Catch up on some of the sleep I’d missed because of what Ty had stirred up in me and the sound of Tara’s conquests. I couldn’t walk out. I had another hour of this before there would be any chance of release. I was trapped in this lecture, held hostage—unfortunately not in a good way.
    There was a sudden bang and the old oak door in the corner of the lecture room swung open. All pens stopped as everyone’s attention was directed toward the two policemen striding in. They wore stiff, dark uniforms and peaked hats. Each had an expression of grim determination.
    “Er, can I help you?” the professor asked, poking at her glasses then twisting her hands around each other.
    “I hope so,” the taller of the two policemen said, strolling toward the professor’s desk. His heavy black boots clicked on the wooden floor and the set of his shoulders oozed purpose. He took off his hat and sent his keen gaze over the sea of faces staring his way. “We’re looking for Penelope Tipping.”
    My heart pounded.
    Shit!
    Ty must have delivered the lock of hair to my father already. Fast work. I was planning on calling Dad later and letting him know I was okay and not to panic if a piece of me was delivered. I’d wanted to keep a lid on his anxieties about my safety, not least because it would ease the way for a conversation about James’ case.
    But it seemed Ty had beaten me to it. It wouldn’t go in his favor and now I felt like a truly terrible daughter.
    The policeman folded his arms and widened his stance. “Miss Penelope Tipping,” he said again, more firmly this time.
    “Yes, over here.” I flipped shut my notebook and stood. What choice did I have?
    “Miss Tipping?” he asked, tilting his chin.
    Nodding resignedly, I packed up my belongings,