Elle’s garden had the biggest decorations on the street—I couldn’t wait to see inside. But when we went in, there weren’t many decorations. In fact, there weren’t any. Not even a tree. It was like the house had Christmas catfished me. And as Elle predicted, there was no sign of Nick.

But maybe that was a good thing—I was soooo tired. My body didn’t know if it was night or day, and I was somehow both shivering and sweating. Jess suggested I shower, get on my pajamas, and we’d have a quick dinner followed by waffles and syrup in front of the TV and an early night. Which sounded great. Mum had said they’d make me super welcome, and I already felt at home.

I wanted to start as I meant to go on, so after my shower, I pulled on my Christmas pj’s and massive turkey slippers and fished out my gifts for everyone. When I came downstairs, Pete was laying the table. Their kitchen was the size of our living room and kitchen. Hu-mong-ous.

“Wow. Sophie wasn’t wrong. You seriously DO bring the Christmas spirit…” He looked down at his knitted brown cardigan over a blue shirt. “I’m feeling kind of underdressed here?”

“The slippers light up.” I lifted my foot onto the chair. “Wattles AND tails. Want to see?”

“Well, who would say no to that?!” Jess laughed as she put the plates down on the table. I could tell they were impressed.

“Oh, and this is from me and Mum.” I grabbed their gift. “And Naomi, I guess.”

A big basket from our local market. Jams, cheese, crackers—all stuff Mum said they would like. And some chocolate that I’d chosen, because who actually thinks savory crackers are a present? It had weighed approximately one ton in my suitcase, and now the cheese looked all sweaty and out of place. You and me both, cheese.

“You really shouldn’t have.” Jess seemed genuinely touched.

“I’ve got something for Nick too.” I pointed at the carrier bag. The twins had helped me choose—it was a toy-dog thing, about as big as my arm, wearing antlers and Christmas bells. When you pressed its paw, it wagged its tail, rang its bells, and warbled the chorus of “I Wish It Could Be Christmas” on repeat. It made me laugh every time.

Pete sighed. “He should be back by now. Almost six, right? It isn’t funny anymore. I’m so sorry, Holly. Why don’t you go and put it in his room?”

They seemed annoyed with him, or his babysitter, or whatever, so I escaped the awkward, ran upstairs, and pushed his door open.

“AHHHHHH!”

I actually screamed.

There was someone in Nick’s room! In the pitch black?! A tall guy, in a hoodie, bag over his shoulder.

“WHO ARE YOU?!”