‘I’m afraid not, ma’am,’ said George.

He gave me a studied look that I had no trouble interpreting. He’d wanted to keep hold of the recording, but Tobey took over, not prepared to take any chances. As far as I was concerned, Tobey was Dan Jeavons in a bespoke suit and with better manners, but he was still just as toxic.

‘Thank you, George.’

‘Ma’am.’ And, with that, George left me alone in a room I’d never expected to see again.

forty-two. Troy

Libby and I stood statue-still. The squeaky groan of nails being pulled from old wood continued above us. A harsh creak, then a loud rasp and the clatter of wood being dropped carelessly to the ground. The clatter happened again, and then a third time, followed by the screech of rusty bolts being drawn back – metal scraping against metal.

Then silence.

If the harsh, grating noise of the door being unbarricaded was bad, the profound silence that followed it was far, far worse. It was like having my neck on the block and waiting for a guillotine blade to fall. Libby was squeezing every drop of blood out of my hand – but I wasn’t about to pull away. I was squeezing right back.

‘Troy—’

‘I’m here.’ My voice was equally soft. ‘Libby, if you get the chance, just run. Don’t wait for me. I’m not going anywhere with this ankle.’

Libby turned to me. She opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. She nodded reluctantly. Good. She was seeing sense.

I nodded. With a crack and creak that echoed in my heart, the door above us began to open.

forty-three. Callie

Tobey and I looked up at the mock-Tudor detached house before us with its stylish blend of Zafrikan and Albion influences. This house couldn’t be more than ten years old, but it was working hard to seem centuries older. A black WMW was parked on the spacious paved driveway, wide enough to cater for at least three SUVs.

‘Shane isn’t going to be happy to see us, is he?’ I said.

‘Tough!’ Clearly Tobey wasn’t about to lose any sleep over that.

‘Let me handle this,’ I told him as we approached the front door.

I went to ring the bell, but Tobey grabbed my hand, my finger mere millimetres away. He shook his head, issuing a soft ‘Shush!’ He pointed to the front door and I now saw what had made him pause. The door was slightly ajar, only wide enough to be seen from close up, not the road. His expression sombre, Tobey turned to me, mouthing, ‘Wait here.’

As if.