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moved back in with his parents. It wasn’t ideal and it certainly wasn’t going to be permanent, but it was the only option.

If he was honest, he would say the break-up had been a long time coming. They hardly spoke to each other; they never had sex anymore, and Amelia was constantly studying to become a solicitor. When she eventually succeeded, there would be a conflict of interest if their professional lives crossed, which they were bound to do. The death of their relationship was inevitable.

Sitting in the living room, lit only by the dull light of a standard lamp, Rory balanced a laptop on his knee and tucked into a bland takeaway he’d picked up on the way home. His parents had long since gone to bed, leaving him with the house to himself.

His mind was full of the seven boys in Starling House. Not just their crimes, the horrors they inflicted on others, but the need they felt to commit the crime in the first place. What could possibly be so bad in a teenager’s life that the only solution was murder? Rory remembered what it was like to be a teenager. He was all mood swings and raging testosterone. Did hormones play a part in why a child went on to kill? Was there some chemical imbalance in their brain that changed them from a rational individual to a cold-blooded killer?

Rory searched Google. He couldn’t find the right answers because he didn’t know the right questions. There were essays written by psychologists on the behaviour of young people and whether they were influenced by films and computer games, but a lot seemed to be playing it safe. Nobody wanted to stick their neck out and give a firm answer.

He scrolled through his phone and sent a text to Scott:

Did you ever think about killing your parents as a child?

The reply came back almost straightaway:

What? No I didn’t. What kind of a question is that?

I’m trying to understand why the boys in Starling House killed in the first place.

Not this again!! Rory, it doesn’t matter. They’ve killed. They’re in there. Surely it’s good 2 know they’ve been caught and no longer a threat to society.

Aren’t u curious as 2 y people kill?

Not at this time of night. See you in the morning.

Rory threw the phone down onto the sofa and sighed. He seemed to be the only person interested in what made these boys tick. He placed the laptop on the seat next to him and went into the dining room where he’d put his bag when he arrived home from work. He listened carefully to check for any sounds from upstairs; it was all quiet. From his bag he pulled out a thick brown file. He took it back into the living room and began reading.

Before coming home, Rory had gone back to South Yorkshire Police HQ and photocopied all the case files of the inmates of Starling House. He had managed to sneak them into his car without anyone noticing.

Now, sitting in the dull living room, Rory started to read and re-read about the murders committed by Jacob Brown, Ryan Asher, Craig Hodge, Callum Nixon, Mark Parker, Lewis Chapman, Thomas Hartley, and Lee Marriott. There had to be something in their pasts, some trigger that made them kill, but what?

Rory reached for the laptop and went to the Google home page – ‘why do children kill their parents?’ he typed. He looked at the results and rolled his eyes. It was going to be a very long night.

NINETEEN

Kate Moloney walked the dark corridors of Starling House on the way to her room. It was approaching midnight and the house was silent. Usually, it didn’t bother her to be alone in the dark, but tonight was different. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking that there was a killer on the loose.

This morning all the doors had been locked, apart from Ryan Asher’s. Who had opened it? The only people who had a key were the staff. So did one of them open it? If so, why? Who, among them, was capable of stabbing a fifteen-year-old boy twelve times? She shook the thought from her mind. She didn’t want to start questioning her staff as that would lead to her questioning her own judgement – she hired them after all.

Elly Caine. The least said about her the better. She was the one blot on Kate Moloney’s perfect record. Fortunately, Elly didn’t work at Starling House anymore. Although, she was related to Richard Grover and he still worked here.

‘No!’ Kate chastised herself. Her cry echoed around the silent corridors. It was not possible one of her staff was a killer. It had to be one of the other boys. They had all killed before, it was obviously part of their make-up. As much as Kate wanted to believe the inmates had accepted their punishment and were atoning for their sins, not all of them were sorry. One of them still had the capacity to take another life.

Kate’s bedroom was at the top of the building, in the eaves. She locked the door behind her and pushed a heavy wooden trunk in front of it. Never before had she been frightened of sleeping in Starling House.

A very quick shower, during which she strained to listen for the sound of her door opening over the hot water raining down on her, a quick brush of her teeth and then she went straight to bed. She picked up an Anne Tyler paperback and put it straight back down again. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate tonight.

She turned out the light and snuggled deep under the duvet but sleep wouldn’t come. Her mind was busy with dark thoughts. After half an hour, she was still tossing and turning. The fitted sheet had come off the mattress at one corner and she was tangled up in the duvet. She climbed out and made the bed. Getting back in, she turned on

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