Once she had handed the girl over, Karin was tempted to follow them out, but there was someone she couldn’t leave behind, and this time, it wasn’t Declan. Telling herself that her brother was sensible enough to have left the theatre by now, she gave the upper tier only a cursory glance as she called out his name one last time. Detecting no movement, she was unaware that she was being observed from above.

Karin retraced her steps back to the woman with blue lips, who was exactly where she had left her. She crouched down to touch her arm, but it was too late. This stranger’s last act had been to send Karin off to save someone else, and she had died alone.

‘I got her out for you,’ Karin whispered as she kissed the top of the woman’s head.

Mourning the loss of a hero she couldn’t name, Karin clamped a hand over her mouth and released a wail, which quickly transformed into a cry of pain. Her hands were burnt and bleeding and some of her fingernails were hanging by a thread.

To match the tears running down her cheeks, Karin could feel drips falling onto her scalp as if the Empress was crying with her. She heard the same hiss of water evaporating as Rex had done, but as she looked up, her gaze came to rest on the balcony. Her brother hadn’t left after all.

‘Declan!’ she cried out with a rush of relief. They were both still in danger, but they had found each other. It was going to be OK.

31

Feeling conspicuous with her solitary glass of gin, Leanne weaved through the crowded pub and took up a holding position next to her favourite chesterfield. A small gathering of friends were sprawled across it, waiting for their table to be called and, after only five minutes, Leanne’s patience paid off. The group left her to reclaim her seat with only echoes of their boisterous chatter.

Settling in for what might be a lengthy duration, Leanne tried to picture Karin working in such a demanding environment. The Sunday lunch crowd was good-natured enough, but the pub could get boisterous on a Saturday night and it would take a manager with nerve to keep drunken patrons under control. Would Karin be able to use her past skills to stand up to Claudia? Did she have the mettle to stake her claim as the rightful hero?

Leanne didn’t think so, and as the Christmas decorations twinkled above the occasional ripple of laughter, she wasn’t sure anyone would care. If this scene were a barometer of the town’s mood, then Sedgefield was looking forward, not back, and Leanne had chosen a battle she wasn’t sure she could win. She couldn’t change the ending to the town’s worst tragedy. The dead would remain dead.