Before I can turn, someone presses up against my back. So close I hear their raspy breathing. I try to turn, but my coat rips. Something sharp touches my spine.

I want to cry out, but the blade silences me for a moment, before words bubble up. ‘What do you want?’ My voice shakes, a sob so close. ‘What have I done? What have any of us done?’

A gloved hand grabs my arm, and with a jolt I’m thrown against a tree.

My head bounces painfully against the bark.

My head swims.

My vision blurs.

A masked figure looks down at me, silently, a knife glinting in their hand.

A crunch of footsteps in the snow close by gives me sudden hope.

‘Help me,’ I whimper, heart thudding against my ribcage. And as I shake with fear and cold, my vision dips out. Everything goes black.

*

When I come round my surroundings are a blur. Someone is crouching down in front of me, features distorted. My survival instincts kick in, and I fumble the knife from my pocket. If I want to live I have to do the impossible. With a deep breath I pull my arm back, and with a jerk I plunge the blade into their stomach. I heave, sick, bile rising in my throat.

He cries in agony. A male. Yes, I’m sure it’s a man.

But the forest spins as if I’m drunk, and within seconds everything goes black once more.

Chapter 38

Present Day

Amelia

My eyes are gritty and sore. My head and ears throb. My bones and teeth ache.

I’m propped against a tree in the solid darkness, unable to see in front of me. Afraid to move in case the killer is still here.

Did I really push the knife into his flesh? Or did I dream that?

I listen. The wood is silent. No screams. No footsteps. No masked killer.

The moon creeps out from behind a cloud, and I see my phone lying abandoned nearby. I reach for it, and close my gloved fingers around it. I flick on the torch.

The moon and my torch give out enough light for me to see in front of me. There’s blood on the ground, but no sign of whoever attacked me – the person I stabbed.

I look up Vine Hill; memories of Finn pushing me down it on the sled invading my head, as my eyes skitter across to the farmhouse. The downstairs windows glow orange, and I imagine Julia and Finn inside, unaware of Maddie’s death. But they know of the dangers. They know there’s a killer on the grounds of Drummondale House estate. They know to keep the doors locked.