I turn to see Rosamund behind me – so close. Shaking. Unable to keep her limbs still. She brushes her cheeks with her anorak sleeve, and I notice most of her make-up has been washed away by tears. She looks vulnerable – not something I thought I would ever see. ‘I need Neil,’ she says trancelike, her body trembling. ‘I need Neil.’

Finn is silent, his head flopped back against the wall, a torch in his hand. ‘My mum was here,’ he says. ‘This is hers.’

Two white towels on the floor are soaked in blood. He takes a deep breath. ‘She was running late, not back from her towel deliveries, and I was getting worried. It’s not like her. She’s always punctual.’

There are more red smears on the wall tiles, and on the landing carpet too, as though something – or someone – has been dragged across the floor. My stomach flips as I see the streaks of blood continue across the carpet and into Elise’s room.

I move gingerly into her room, and flick on the light. Finn and Rosamund are right behind me. A shudder runs through the length of my body, as we take in the streaks of blood that lead to the far wall.

Is there a body behind the bed? I want to know, but cannot move for fear.

Finn takes a gulp of air, walks across the room, and heads past the bed. He glances down at the floor, his mind clearly working the same as mine.

‘What is it?’ Rosamund shrieks.

‘Finn?’ I say through my fingers.

He looks up, white with anguish, and shakes his head. ‘There’s nothing here.’

Rosamund and I grab our chests in tandem, and my heart thumps under my fingers. ‘Let’s get some tea,’ I say, turning to leave the room. It’s what they always say on TV, when everything goes tragically wrong. ‘We can wait downstairs for Dad, and hopefully the police will get to us soon.’

Rosamund nods. ‘This is what happened a year ago, isn’t it?’ she says. ‘What if it’s the same person? What if they’ve returned?’

‘It’s different,’ I say, leading the way downstairs.

‘How is it different, Amelia?’ Rosamund says. ‘The disappearance of a teenage girl, the blood.’ She buries her head in her hands.

I wander into the kitchen, fill the kettle, and flick it on.

It’s as it reaches boiling point the power goes off once more, and the cottage plunges into darkness.

Chapter 25

Present Day

Amelia

My eyes, now adjusted to the sudden loss of light, are drawn to the window. The blind is up, and the full moon filters through snow-heavy trees that bend and sway in the wind. A chill runs down my spine. I’m petrified.