Classic teenaged death anthems ran through Polly’s head. Deceptively upbeat tunes you could dance to with lyrics featuring car wrecks and such. She was in something of a morbid state of mind, trying to cope with it all. Just finding ways to fill the days, as her weekend extended from two days to four, like Easter every week. Polly would have preferred it be more like Christmas but worked with what she had. It was the story of her life really.

Nothing terrible had happened ...