‘Maybe it came from the floor above?’ she tried, but Noah didn’t reply. She was sure he was thinking the same thing she was: that the hotel was so well insulated, sounds rarely travelled between one room and the next. ‘It would have to be something big. What if the storm’s damaged the hotel? The winds have got up and blown in a window, or—’

‘Hannah, stop. It’ll all be fine.’ Noah stepped in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders.

‘How do you know?’ she whispered.

He laughed softly. ‘I don’t. I’m just trying to reassure you. You’re not meant to question it, you’re just meant to feel better.’ He was speaking so quietly, every word thrumming through her, as if she was a tuning fork attuned perfectly to Noah’s frequency.

‘That would be a lame response,’ Hannah whispered back. ‘If you’ve got no evidence to back up your statement, how am I supposed to believe it?’

‘Shush.’

‘You shush.’ His hands were warm and solid against her shoulders; it should have been comforting, but her senses had gone into overdrive. ‘Noah?’

His lips parted. She thought he was about to reply, but he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She could feel his breath on her forehead, could sense his intent even though his eyes were in shadow. She tried to put some space between them and the edge of the treatment bed jabbed into her lower back.

‘Ow!’

‘What is it?’

‘Sharp edges,’ she said. And then, hoping to break the tension, added, ‘This particular bed is not my ideal bed, just so you know. Especially not if it’s in a haunted room.’

‘You said your ideal bed would have me in it,’ he murmured.

‘Yes,’ she whispered loudly. ‘And then I was going to add, with a big mound of pillows so I could smother you.’

‘Really?’ She saw his eyebrow lift, even in the dark.

‘Really.’ She nodded, but it was as if she was nodding in response to something else, an unasked question.

Everything else shrank away: the dark room and the ghosts, the fear that had whistled through her when the quiet had been broken. It was just her and Noah, his features indistinct but also, somehow, completely clear to her. She leaned forward, into his personal space and his warmth, and tilted her head to look up at him. He bent his towards her, until they were inches apart.

‘Noah,’ she whispered, her voice choked, because of course this couldn’t happen. He paused, and she could feel the tension radiating off him.

Then he kissed her.

Hannah tingled from head to toe. She wanted more than anything to deepen the kiss, to lace her fingers into his dark curls, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t enjoy it, couldn’t lose herself in the moment when she knew about Beth, about their phone calls and their photograph and that she was playing a part in his betrayal of her. She stepped back, not caring that her spine was pressed painfully against the bed.