I cried when I thought of Molly. I’d promised her I wouldn’t leave her. I’d promised her the bad man wouldn’t get me. That I’d be there for her. She was only three. A baby. She must be so confused and scared right now. I cried more when it hit me over and over again that there was no chance I was getting out of this alive.

I thought of all of Ronan’s words, how he’d gone to identify Clare. Who would have the grim task of identifying my body? What kind of state would Michael leave me in for them to identify, or would he leave me here to rot in this building? They might never find me. Or would my body end up like Clare’s, locked in a fridge in a coroner’s, miles from home? Would my family have to sit in front of the media and plead for my killer to come forward?

Just one week ago, Michael had shown Clare no mercy. If he’d been the man she was seeing, he’d wooed her, too. At the same time as he was wooing me. He’d allowed her to fall in love with him, at the same time as he was telling me he was falling in love with me. Made her think she had a future with him, only to betray her in the most brutal way.

How had I even considered for one second running away with this man? I’d been so very, very stupid. My baby girl was so young that in a few years she wouldn’t even remember who I was, how I’d loved her. Would she ever understand why any of this had happened? Would I? And if, by some miracle, I came out of this alive, would any of them ever forgive me?

The putrid smell, as if the very walls were sweating in this heat, filled my nostrils. I was sure I could hear the sound of something scurrying in this enclosed space with me. I was afraid to move. I could barely breathe; my chest was so tight I was sure I’d suffocate in this space. I covered my ears to try to drown out the sound of the scurrying, the dripping of water, but I couldn’t drown out the thumping of my heart.

Thursday, 14 June

Chapter Forty-Six

Rachel