Chapters (68)
- Cover
- PRAISE FOR Her Last Holiday
- PRAISE FOR C.L. TAYLOR
- See what readers are saying about Her Last Holiday …
- See what bloggers are saying about C.L. TAYLOR …
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Acknowledgements
- Her Last Holiday Book Club Questions
- Keep Reading …
- About the Author
- By the same author:
- About the Publisher
Now, Kate takes another sip of wine. 215,000 followers. Two years ago, Tom had nearer 600,000. But 215,000 is still a huge number. For whatever reason, those people chose not to unfollow him. Some probably follow so many people they’ve forgotten all about SoulShrink. Others might have inactive accounts. But some of them will want to hear from Tom again – certainly the ones who tried to balance out the slew of hateful tweets with compassion and understanding. She opens a new tab in her browser and types, ‘Tom Wade released from prison’ into Google. Dozens of news articles fill the page but Kate doesn’t read them. Instead she clicks on the ‘Images’ link and scans through the pictures. She spots one of her, looking focused and pale, leaning over the steering wheel of her car. Another of her and Tom sprinting across the car park towards each other, arms spread wide. It’s a powerful image, but it’s not right. She continues to scroll through the photographs then lifts her finger from the mouse wheel as a close up of Tom appears on the screen. It’s from when they were hugging; she can see strands of her straight dark hair behind his head. But that’s not what caught her attention. It’s Tom’s face, crumpled with emotion, his eyes screwed shut. She clicks on the image, to see a larger version, and that’s when she sees the tear. One single tear, rolling down his cheek.