‘You’d love this, wouldn’t you? The sight of me falling apart at your graves. Finally getting what I deserve. Well don’t hold your breath. I’ll win this, and you’ll both still be here, six feet under. You’ll both be nothing but forgotten, meaningless bones, and if I could, I’d watch you both die all over again.’

She stared at her mother’s name engraved into the stone and let the anger rise until she could taste the sourness of it at the back of her throat. She gripped the shears tighter and waded through the weeds until she was crouched before the gravestone, and chipped away at the engraving with the blades. Nettles stung her wrists. Thorns snagged her clothes and hands until she felt blood moisten her grip. Her force strengthened as she worked, sweat broke out on her brow, and stray tears slipped down her cheeks, until her mother’s name, her last remaining existence above ground, crumbled away in dust and small lumps of rock. She stumbled to her feet and stepped back through the weeds.

The grave stood nameless, with white scratches and chips in the stone, but the anger was still there, pressing down on her chest until it was impossible to breathe. She screamed up the rage until it erupted in spittle and rang in her ears. The sound echoed through the yard and sent birds fleeing from the trees.

She opened her eyes and gasped for air.

Her hands were shaking violently. Her knuckles were cut open and blood dripped from her fingertips. Her clothes had torn. Tears trembled on her jaw.

After years of self-restraint, she had let her rage get the better of her.

She snatched up her handbag and stumbled back to the path. The wind cooled the tears on her cheeks and the blood on her hands. She heaved in gulps of air until blood returned to her head.

When she got inside the car, she rested her forehead against the steering wheel. Her whole body was shaking, and each wound stung and pulsed with her heart. She sat up and eyed her hands, bloodying the leather.

In a few hours, it would be done. Now that she had expelled her built up fury, she had a clear head and the confidence to execute her final stage of the plan.

Tonight, she would make no mistakes.

FIVE

Friday 24 November, 17:39

Amber eyed the reflection of her naked body in the mirror and forced herself to remember. Normally she refused to look, and winced when she caught a flash of a scar, but on days like today, she had to remember where she had come from, and why it was so important for her to protect the life she had built.