* 27 years ago an entire class vanished, until a desperate mother noticed a crucial detail…

I—I got a bit sidetracked, she said finally, but it’s good to see you both again. Matthew shook Laura’s hand warmly. It’s good to see you too, Laura.

How are you holding up? Before Laura could answer, Sarah returned with an armful of flowers. Here you are, Mrs. Calloway. Would you like to arrange them yourself as usual? Laura nodded, grateful for the distraction.

Yes, thank you, Sarah. I’ll do that. As Laura began to arrange the flowers, carefully selecting each stem and placing it with care, Helen and Matthew chose their own bouquet for Sally’s grave.

The shop was quiet except for the soft rustling of paper and the occasional murmur of conversation between the couple. Laura found herself lost in thought as she worked, her hands moving almost of their own accord as she created a beautiful arrangement. The familiar task was soothing, allowing her mind to wander back to her encounter with Principal Brooke’s.

Should she tell Helen about it? Would her friend understand her suspicions, or would she think Laura was grasping at straws again? As she finished tying a ribbon around the bouquet, Laura glanced up to see Helen watching her with a mixture of affection and concern. That’s beautiful, Laura, Helen said softly. Rory would have loved it.

Laura felt tears prick at her eyes at the mention of her daughter’s name. Thank you, she managed to say. I hope so.

The three of them made their way to the counter to pay for their flowers. As Sarah wrapped Helen’s bouquet, Laura found herself studying her friend’s face. There was a sadness there, a weight of grief that Laura recognised all too well, but there was also a calmness, a sense of acceptance that Laura envied.

Helen, Laura said suddenly, her voice low. There’s something I need to tell you about to-day. Helen turned to her, curiosity mingling with concern in her eyes.

What is it, Laura? Laura took a deep breath, stealing herself. After I left your house I—I went to see Principal Brooks. Helen’s eyes widened in surprise.

You did what? Why? Before Laura could explain, Sarah handed them their wrapped bouquets. Here you are, ladies. I hope these bring you some comfort to-day.

Laura and Helen thanked her, and as they turned to leave the shop, Laura could feel the weight of Helen’s questioning gaze. She knew she owed her friend an explanation, but she wasn’t sure how to put her suspicions into words without sounding like she was chasing ghosts. As they stepped out onto the sidewalk, the rain had finally stopped, leaving behind a fresh, clean scent in the air.

Matthew suggested they all go to the cemetery together, and Laura found herself nodding in agreement. As they walked towards Matthew’s car, Laura knew she would have to share what she had learned—or what she thought she had learned—with Helen. But as she clutched her bouquet of flowers, a small part of her wondered if she was ready to face the potential consequences of digging up the past once again.

As they settled into Matthew’s car, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken questions. Helen turned in her seat to face Laura, her expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. «‘Laura,’ she began gently, «‘why did you go to see Principal Brooks? What were you hoping to find?’ Laura took a deep breath, clutching the bouquet of flowers in her lap.

She knew she had to choose her words carefully. «‘I—I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right about that class photo—the one with the school bus,’ Helen’s brow furrowed. «‘The one we looked at earlier?’ «‘What about it?’ «‘I asked her about it, and she said it was taken at the school before the trip.

But, Helen, at first she said it was during—’ Then she quickly corrected herself and said it was before. «‘Don’t you find that strange?’ «‘It felt like she was hiding something,’ Laura explained, her voice growing more animated, the weight of suspicion pressing harder on her chest. Matthew glanced at Laura in the rear-view mirror, his expression neutral.

«‘Laura, it’s been twenty-seven years. Memory can play tricks on us, especially with such a traumatic event.’ Laura nodded, acknowledging his point. «‘I know, I know, but there was something else.

When I arrived at her house there was a young woman there, someone I’d never seen before, and the principal—she seemed—nervous, like she didn’t want that woman to know what we were talking about. Helen and Matthew exchanged a look that Laura couldn’t quite decipher. After a moment of silence Helen spoke, her voice gentle but firm.

«‘Laura, I understand the need to find answers. Believe me, I do, but we’ve been down this road before. Remember three years ago, when you thought you’d found a connection between the bus-driver and that cold case in Oregon?’ Laura felt a flush of embarrassment at the memory.

She had spent weeks convinced she’d uncovered a vital clue, only to have it lead nowhere. «‘This is different,’ she insisted, though a small part of her wondered if she was trying to convince herself as much as her friends. The car fell silent as they drove through the familiar streets towards the cemetery.

Laura stared out the window, watching as the town gave way to more rural surroundings. The sky was clearing, patches of blue appearing between the clouds. As they approached the cemetery gates Matthew broke the silence.

«‘Laura, we care about you. We don’t want to see you get hurt again by false hope.’ Laura nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. «‘I know,’ she said softly.

I just—I can’t help the feelings. Rory and Sally and all the others deserve more than just acceptance. They deserve the truth.’ Helen reached back and squeezed Laura’s hand…