I quickly tap on the shower-room door, and open it. I cover my eyes as I step inside, and place two towels on the rack. ‘Clean towels for you, Elise,’ I say.

I turn to leave, my body tensing as panic surges through me. Before me is a figure in black. I barely have time to register they’re wearing the creepy mask. Barely have a moment for the scream inside my chest to reach my throat.

The pain in my head sends me reeling.

Everything goes black as I hit the floor with a thud.

Chapter 23

Present Day

Me

You’ve left the bedroom door open, and I can see it hanging on the kitchen curtain rail. I don’t know why it haunts me. It’s only a piece of plastic, after all. But it does.

It’s been there since the day you brought me here. Do you leave it there to torment me? Or have you simply forgotten it’s there?

I close my eyes, my mind sifting through the same old questions, and I wonder how many times I will ask myself them.

Why hasn’t anyone found me?

Will I ever be free?

Will I live to see tomorrow?

I listen for your return. I want to ask you again why you are holding me here. Hope that I will find a part of you that isn’t consumed by evil. But outside there’s an unbearable silence.

I sit on the edge of the bed, and pour a glass of water from the jug, lift it with weak arms to my dry lips, and swallow.

I turn as Misty clatters in through the cat flap. He’s free, and yet he chooses to return each day. I wonder if he knows how much he’s helping me through this. Thank God I’ve got Misty.

Chapter 24

Present Day

Amelia

It was dark as I clambered, breathless, to the top of Vine Hill, doubling over with exhaustion. I kept going off course, and the route was hazardous. It’s taken me over an hour to get back. I was stupid, shouldn’t have gone out alone in these freezing conditions.

My bladder aches from needing the loo, and every part of my body hurts, as though icy fingers touch my bones, freezing soft tissue. My ears burn, and even the inside of my nose is crystallised.

I’m relieved to see the cottages have power once more, each window alight with an orange glow.

I’m about to step onwards, desperate to warm myself by the wood burner, and maybe sneak a hug from Dad if he’s in a better mood, when I hear a scream. My mind shoots back to a year ago. I stop calf-deep in snow, filled with dread.